Just This
by Sela McGrane
Summary: Ten years ago, after a year of building a friendship, Minerva and Hermione parted ways abruptly, unwilling to face the way their relationship was growing and changing. Now, Minerva is ready to face a future with Hermione, but Hermione's life has become substantially more complicated than it was before. Slow and steady, they learn that it's the simple things that make love work.
1. Chapter 1

***waves* Hello. It's been awhile. I'm not dead. I am trying to get back in the saddle here, and after a bit of friendly pressure from an old friend, I was inspired this evening to write a oneshot. Of course, me being me... it's not a oneshot. It's totally not a oneshot. This is a chapter one. I will update soon. Happy reading. **

* * *

"Hi," Hermione Granger said dumbly to her former Professor, and former something never quite so defined. It had been ten years since she'd last seen Minerva McGonagall, although the woman hadn't aged a day. "How are you, Minerva?"

The older witch smiled softly as they hugged tightly, and then pulled apart. "I'm well. You look good, Hermione."

"Me?" she sputtered. "You look incredible."

A blush colored Hermione's cheeks, and Minerva's, as both women silently remembered what had been their post-war rise and fall. After the Battle of Hogwarts, Hermione had been free to admit one more thing that set her apart - that she was gay - and Minerva was free to finally grieve the loss of her husband, Albus. While entirely different journeys to be on, it seemed to draw the two of them together, and they established a pattern of having dinner together weekly.

That went on for a year before several things happened all at once. First, Hermione realized that she was attracted to Minerva. Second, the platonic flirting that had existed between them stopped being platonic. Third, Minerva seemed not to be all that opposed to the attention Hermione was giving her.

Until she was.

The dinners stopped after an awkward conversation about so-called _misplaced affection_ and _misread signals_ which Hermione still felt was less an issue of truth and more an issue of Minerva being scared shitless of what she was feeling. Still, she'd respected the older woman's position, and backed off completely. Then, she'd intended to just give her some time and then try to reach out again, but life had happened, and here she was ten years later, running into the woman at random in Diagon Alley.

And of course, the first damn thing she did was flirt with Minerva.

"Well, it was nice seeing you," Minerva finally said, clearly attempting to run away from the awkward situation. "Take care."

Hermione reached out and grabbed her hand before Minerva had managed two steps. "Minerva, wait. Please. I'm sorry."

"For what?" the older woman asked, raising an eyebrow.

The gesture made Hermione feel like she was back at Hogwarts, and she let out a soft chuckle. "Don't give me the _Professor_ look, Min. I'm sorry for coming on so strong," Hermione replied. "Look, given our history, it's pretty pointless for me to try and suggest that I see you in a strictly platonic manner. I don't. I think you're a beautiful, intelligent, intriguing woman, and I'd like to get to know you better. Ten years is a long time. I'm not that insecure little girl anymore, so I'm just going to flat out ask. Minerva, could I interest you in a proper date?"

Hermione took it as a promising sign that, while Minerva was staring at her like a deer in the headlights, she had not let go of her hand. "Date? As in… date?"

"Yes. As in I am expressing romantic interest in you, if you require me to be completely clear."

Minerva looked conflicted. "I was certain that what you obviously felt back then was just grasping for comfort in the aftermath of the war. That it would be short-lived, and meant nothing. That it was a physical thing primarily, and for what little emotional element there was, it was unhealthy."

"If that's what it was then, it's not that now," Hermione replied. "I'm not claiming to be in love with you, Minerva. I'm claiming interest and attraction. I'd be claiming the same if I knew nothing about you except that you were Head of Hogwarts. I'm drawn to intelligence, and as a teacher, I'd assume you'd be reasonably intelligent. And you are beautiful."

Minerva rolled her eyes. "You need glasses."

"Albus had glasses and he thought the same," Hermione countered.

The older woman sighed. "Hermione, you're one of the few who even _knows_ about Albus and me. Thank you, by the way, for keeping that to yourself all these years. I worried that after I pushed you away, you'd feel hurt and tell my secret in retribution."

Hermione pulled Minerva away from the front of the bookshop where they'd bumped into one another, across the street to a small café that had outdoor seating. They were obviously going to talk for at least a little while, and they were blocking foot traffic where they were. Sitting down and asking for a tea service, Hermione addressed Minerva's point. "Given what I did to Rita Skeeter during the war, that's fair. I can be a bit petty. I loved you, though. Then, and now. I love you, Minerva. That's never changed. It's just been an issue of _how_ I love you that may be changing. And perhaps, how deeply."

"I never wanted to hurt you," the older witch admitted, "but on top of my concerns for your welfare - _gods Hermione, I was your Professor! How could I not think of your interests first?_ \- I was also feeling things I'd not felt for anyone except Albus in a very long time. It scared me."

Hermione nodded in understanding. "I figured as much. What about now? How about that date?"

Minerva took a deep breath. "I've never been with a woman."

Hermione smirked. "Trust me. You'll catch on quickly."

The older woman pursed her lips. "I have _extensive_ reservations. I was your teacher. Our age difference. Our respective public images. Our respective careers. The fact that I know absolutely nothing about what you've been doing for the last decade."

"I have reservations as well," Hermione admitted. "Notably about how you'll react to certain things that I've been up to for the last decade. I am asking that you trust me, and don't start drilling me until the second date. I need you to give _us_ a chance."

Hermione hadn't more clearly seen the _Headmistress_ expression on Minerva's face until that particular moment. Suspicion was there, loud and clear, and she supposed it should be after a statement like that. "Very well," came a crisp reply. "I suppose in that case I'm agreeing to two dates, as true to the nature of my Animagus form, the curiosity of what exactly you're hiding will otherwise surely kill me. If I haven't got permission to drill you for answers until the second date…"

The younger woman grinned victoriously. "I thought you might see it my way."

"Are you certain you weren't considered for Slytherin House?" Minerva asked teasingly.

It was an old joke, and it brought Hermione back to the wonderful year of dinners they'd shared. For all of Hermione's Gryffindor qualities, it had become a known fact that if there was any cunning to be had in the Golden Trio, it was going to come out of Hermione. The fact that she was Muggleborn was a great irony that Harry, Ron, and later Minerva took great pleasure in getting a laugh over. Hermione's customary response to their occasional jab at her more sneaky side, however, was always the same. "Don't be nasty, Minerva," she replied with a grin.

* * *

Minerva McGonagall really couldn't say how, at seventy-four years old, she found herself going on a _first date_. Granted, she supposed she and Hermione had gone on their first date a decade ago, as well as a second, third, and many thereafter. They'd been dating for nearly a year before they'd realized it, and while Hermione had taken that realization with grace, Minerva had panicked. In many ways, she supposed this was them getting back together, although it still felt like completely uncharted territory. Granted, as they'd never explored physical intimacy previously, it _was_ uncharted.

The older woman gulped as she looked at her reflection in the mirror. They were meeting in Muggle London this evening for the sake of privacy, so she was dressed in Muggle clothes. Blue jeans hugged her arse like a second skin, and a scoop neck, loose peasant blouse clung to her slender frame nicely, the cream colored satin blend heavy enough to look weighted down instead of billowed. Black boots and simple, silver jewelry was enough to complete the outfit. Minerva was up to date on Muggle fashion, quite unlike her late husband, but she wasn't the sort to over do it and be extravagant. She looked nice, and she looked like a woman who meant to be sexually appealing, and it completely baffled her that she was meaning to be sexually appealing to another woman.

Her father was probably rolling in his grave. The daughter of a Minister? On a date with another woman? Hellfire and brimstone! She could just imagine his face contorted with rage, were he alive to see her now. She almost hated herself for thinking it, but she thanked Merlin he was already dead.

Albus, on the other hand, was likely having a laugh in the great beyond. He'd been bisexual, so being attracted to both sexes was quite normal as far as he was concerned, and were he alive to see it he'd probably consider Hermione Granger to be a good match for her, gender be damned. Still, it unnerved Minerva how her heart sped up at the mere memory of the night she'd known - _she'd known_ \- she was in too deep. It had been the night she decided to end things, ten years prior.

They'd had wine with dinner that night, and things had gotten flirty as usual. They'd started talking about the war and Fred Weasley had come up, and they'd begun swapping stories of the pranks he'd pulled at school. His pranks had led to conversation about the Marauders, and about James Potter, which had led the conversation back to Harry and his antics. Minerva, rather tipsy, had gone on a bit of a rant about how much she'd wanted to give Harry Potter a piece of her mind for all the trouble he'd gotten himself into at school, but Albus had never let her. Since he was dead, she'd decided that she was going to march on over to Grimmauld Place and give Harry a piece of her mind right then and there.

She'd grabbed her wand, stood up and started out the front door and toward the Apparition point. She'd made it nearly there before Hermione had caught up with her, grabbing her wand with one hand and then slipping her arm around Minerva's waist from behind the older witch. "_You'll splinch yourself, Min," Hermione had whispered into her ear. "You can hex Harry another time. Stay with me now."_

Yes, Minerva thought with a shudder. The very memory was arousing. It had been the first, and the last time since, Hermione had dared touch her so intimately. There had been touches of arms, or bumping of legs, or even a quick touch to the small of the back if one of them were guiding the other toward some destination. Of course, there were hugs hello and goodbye, but in those instances, for however prolonged the contact, the hands remained above the elbows. That evening, Hermione's fingers were on her abdomen, her lips were nearly on Minerva's neck, and admittedly, the older woman could guiltily recall her rather tipsy urge to thrust her hips back into Hermione's embrace. There was sexual chemistry. There was a _lot_ of sexual chemistry.

That had and still did scare the shite out of Minerva. Ten years ago, she'd let that fear rule her. This time, she wouldn't. This time, she was going to call it what it was. This time, she was going to date Hermione Granger, and if they happened to end up shagging and she happened to enjoy the hell out of it, then so bloody be it. She'd work it out with her conscience later.

* * *

Hermione wasn't sure if she could remember a time she'd been so nervous. Her first date with Minerva had gone splendidly. It had been as easy to talk to the older witch as it had been all those years ago, and this time, when they flirted, it was intentional, and they both knew what it implied. As much as Minerva had been clearly giving the green light that evening, a week ago, to kiss her goodnight, and as _very much_ as Hermione had wanted to oblige, she'd held off. She knew that tonight's date would make or break things. There was something that Hermione had managed to keep off the public radar in the course of the last ten years, and if Minerva couldn't accept it as part of the package that was a relationship with her, then there was no point in investing any further. She hadn't wanted to kiss Minerva once only to lose her.

Harry hadn't been thrilled when she'd told him she was going to tell Minerva.

"_You've no right!" he'd snapped._

"_I have every right, Harry!" Hermione had countered. "I realize you've got a lot on the line here, and it's not just my secret, but I am not going to start a relationship with that kind of secret standing between us. If it were just some random, new relationship I'd not be even considering this, Harry, but it's Minerva!"_

_He'd let out a ragged sigh, and nodded. "You're in love with her, aren't you? You've always been."_

"_Not yet," she said wistfully. "But I know damn well that's only because I haven't let myself fall. The moment I open up to her… there will be no going back, and I expect it will be the same for her. Which is why I have to start this right. Honest. If it goes badly, I trust her to be discreet. I didn't betray her trust regarding Albus, and I expect she would do the same regarding…"_

_Harry chuckled. "There's irony."_

"Hermione!"

Minerva was coming toward her, and she shook her head and forced herself to focus on the woman in front of her, and not the wizard she'd been by to see earlier. "Minerva, hello."

The two quickly found a booth at the Muggle diner they'd agreed to meet at. Hermione much prefered meeting in the Muggle world. The privacy it offered was beyond wonderful, and she had to admit, seeing Minerva in tight blue jeans was quickly becoming a favorite activity. Damn.

"So. The curiosity has been effectively killing me for two weeks," Minerva admitted. "You have my renewed attention, affection, and blast it all I'll admit it, I'm attracted to you. Still, you act like whatever it is you're hiding is going to make me run. I've seen a good deal, and been through a lot of crazy, my dear. Not much is too off-putting to me. You asked me to trust you, and give us a chance. I have. Now trust me. Trust that I won't run. What are you hiding?"

Hermione had always loved Minerva's bluntness. It was a characteristic that her younger self had striven to emulate, and at this point in her life, she could be accused of having the same trait. Still, what she was hiding required a bit of context, so she began with a question. "How much have you kept up with Harry over the years?" she asked. "How much do you know about his family?"

Minerva cocked her head to the side, clearly wondering what this had to do with anything, but trusting a connection would be made. "I know he's been raising Remus' boy, who is at Hogwarts now, and that he and Ginny have had three children of their own. I'm afraid I don't recall names or ages. Harry has been rather insistent on keeping his children out of the public eye."

The younger woman nodded. "Harry and Ginny are indeed raising Teddy Lupin. He's twelve. Harry and Ginny have a son - James, who is five, and a daughter - Lily, who just turned a year old."

"Harry and Ginny aren't particularly imaginative, are they?" Minerva jibed. "All due respect to his parents, mind you."

Hermione chuckled. "If you tell Harry I said I agree with you, I'll hex you into next week."

"What of Harry and Ginny's third child?" Minerva pressed.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Harry has a third child. Ginny does not, though the public believes otherwise and will continue to do so. Four years ago, Harry and I had an emotionally charged, drunken encounter. It resulted in a pregnancy. Ginny, while obviously unhappy about it on a number of fronts, agreed to help us hide it. If the public found out, Harry's image would have been shattered, not to mention mine. Their marriage would have been made a public mockery, whether they remained together or broke up. It was a disaster in the making. Logically, terminating the pregnancy would have been the smart thing to do, but neither Harry nor I could bring ourselves to make that decision."

At this point, Hermione managed to force herself to look up from her hands and at Minerva. She'd been expecting a horrified, disgusted expression, but she found one of compassion and understanding instead. "Go on," Minerva whispered.

"We used charms to make it appear that Ginny was pregnant, and I was not, if either of us needed to be seen in public, and I lived with them for the next year - for the course of the pregnancy and for three months following the birth for a bit of recovery and transition time. Ginny couldn't bring herself take my child away immediately, even if we all knew that in the end, I couldn't be a part of his life day to day. I'd be named godmother so I would have a reason to be in his life fairly actively, and if anything ever happened to them, I'd get custody with no questions asked. He's a big part of my life, Minerva, so if we're going to see each other, you need to understand he is a part of that. I could have just introduced you to him as my godson, but I wanted to be honest with you. I didn't want to start this relationship without being honest about why he is so important to me."

Minerva nodded. "I still don't know _his_ name."

"His name is Albus," Hermione said with a smile. "Albus Severus Potter."

Minerva looked like she was about to cry. "Whose idea was that?"

"Once Harry and I knew we were keeping the baby, and we knew it was going to be a boy… he knows how I feel about you, and Dumbledore told him about the two of you, so it seemed right to both of us. As for the middle name, we both felt like Snape deserved to be honored and knew damn well that not many others would even consider naming their children for him," she explained. "So there you have it."

"There I have it," Minerva said with a nod. "You have a son you cannot claim and is being raised to believe he's merely your godson."

Hermione studied the older woman, who looked completely relaxed. "You're not running."

"Hardly!" Minerva laughed.

"I expected you to run."

"Do you _want_ me to run?"

"No!" Hermione yelped. "Of course not!"

"Then stop whinging and drink your tea," the older witch ordered.

* * *

**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two, peeps. Enjoy. This seems to be turning into something of a monster. **

* * *

Minerva couldn't have said that a son was what she'd expected Hermione to be hiding when she'd pondered what her secret might be over the course of the last two weeks. Even if she had considered the notion of a child in the picture, she certainly wouldn't have considered that the child might be one shared with Harry Potter. The image of him and Hermione together was… "Ugh!" she vocalized to her quiet office. No, that image didn't settle well with her in the slightest. She wasn't quite sure how she was ever going to look Mister Potter in the eye again, but Minerva was sure she'd figure it out, for Hermione's sake. Albus Severus was important to the younger witch, and that was a good enough reason to put aside her own discomfort.

She still couldn't believe they'd named the boy _Albus_ of all bloody things. It would take some time to get used to; saying that name and it not hurting like hell. He'd been gone twelve years now, but gods how she'd loved him. That said, if she had grieved enough to love another, she could manage to accept a boy into her life who shared her husband's name. After last night, Hermione had insisted she take some time to think things over before committing to moving forward with their relationship, and she'd thought of little else since. A Saturday afternoon at Hogwarts was reasonably quiet for the Headmistress, as the teachers were not in classes and free to pick up the slack where she'd normally have to be taking care of certain tasks on a weekday.

Was half a day long enough to have honestly thought through the implications of pursuing a relationship with Hermione? Harry and Hermione hadn't been wrong in the fact that, were the world to find out the truth of Albus' parentage, there would be hell to pay, and if Minerva and Hermione were to be involved at such a time that the truth came out, Minerva would be equally in the line of fire. Then there was the notion of Albus. Hermione was officially his godmother, so no matter what she was going to be a parental figure in his life, and if Minerva was involved with Hermione, she would be as well. Was she willing to become a pseudo-godparent, slash secret step parent?

As she often had in recent years, Minerva found herself walking toward Filius' office for advice. He wasn't Albus, and she'd certainly never felt anything but friendship for the Charms Professor, but he was good for advice. He was unfailingly loyal, and he was wise. She knocked on his open door lightly, and he looked up from his desk. "Filius, have you got a minute?"

"Minerva?" he greeted. "For you, always."

The diminutive man set aside what he'd been working on, and stood from his desk, moving toward the sitting area where they typically had tea together and talked. A flick of his wand and his office door closed, giving them privacy, and a wave of his opposite hand - a bit of wandless magic - prepared a cup of tea just the way she liked it. "Show off," she teased.

"A simple charm," he replied dismissively, preparing his own cup of tea by hand. "Now, what can I do for you? I could see the tension in your shoulders at breakfast. Had you not come to me, I'd have come to you this evening. What's going on?"

"I can't tell you everything, because it involves secrets that are not mine to share," she began.

He nodded in understanding. "Tell me what you can."

"I ran into Hermione Granger a few weeks ago, and we…"

Minerva didn't get any further than that before Filius threw his hands up in the air. "Finally! After ten blasted years I was beginning to think you two would avoid each other forever!"

"Filius!" she admonished. "What in Merlin's name are you on about?"

"Sorry, sorry," he said, blushing. "You and Hermione finally went out on a proper date, if I'm guessing right?"

Grudgingly, Minerva nodded. "Was it that obvious, ten years ago?"

"Painfully!" he drawled. "I suppose I wasn't all that surprised, though, when you parted ways. You weren't ready at that point. Ten years to _get ready_ seems a bit excessive, however."

"Yes, well," she said, rolling her eyes. "Pardon us for not bumping into one another sooner. In any case, there's a complication that begs to question if we ought to pursue a relationship at all. Hermione has asked me to give serious thought to if I'm prepared to enter a relationship with said complication on the table."

"I take it said complication is the part you cannot directly talk about?" Filius asked.

"Quite."

"Is there any part of it you _can_ tell me, that might help me give you sound advice?" he inquired.

Minerva thought about it for a moment, and then spoke again. "It involves the fact that there would always be a third party in our relationship, who while not romantically involved with either of us, is just as important to Hermione if not more so than I would ever be. More problematically, this individual's role in Hermione's life is of a somewhat dubious nature, and if ever publically discovered, could cause massive political and personal fallout, which if I were involved with Hermione at that time, would include myself by association."

Filius nodded. "So Hermione suggests that being involved with her is a risk, because if her secret ever came out, it could damage your social position and potentially, cost you your career."

"Exactly," Minerva replied.

He looked thoughtful. "You'll have to pardon my speculation, but I have to speculate because my advice would be based on the most probable truth of the situation. I'm not asking you to confirm or deny my deductions."

Minerva shifted uncomfortably, and braced herself to school her features. She should have expected Filius to do something like this. "Alright then."

"The most plausible scenarios given what you've presented are that either Hermione is harboring a known criminal who is thought to have died during the war and compelled to do so because of a vow or debt," he suggested. "Or she has a child, whose father is someone already married, likely pureblood and powerful, and the two of them have been hiding the truth of the child's parentage since the moment he or she was born in favor of pretending that the man's wife was the child's true mother. Honestly, I'm more in favor of this argument, because I think it more likely that Hermione made a drunken mistake resulting in a pregnancy, than a sober one locking her into a vow that would force her to harbor a criminal."

It _stunned_ Minerva how bloody on the mark Filius was. She gulped. "Assuming you're right," she croaked. "The fallout of either of those scenarios, should they come to public light, would be…"

"Oh bloody hell," Filius suddenly said mutely.

"What?!"

"Albus. It's Albus Potter," he extrapolated.

The tea cup clinked loudly as she all but dropped it on the table. "Dammit Filius, you are too smart for your own good! You know that?"

He nodded miserably. "That would… yes, that would be a political horror show if it got out. No wonder they went to every length to hide it."

"I will obviously be swearing you to secrecy," Minerva said crisply. "Hermione's going to kill me."

"Of course, of course," he readily agreed. "Well, now that I know for certain, I can easily give you advice."

"Grand," she said dryly. "Advise away."

"Go for it," he urged. "Between Harry and Hermione, this secret has a fair chance of being kept, and if not, Potter has a fair bit of political favor working for him that will be at least some help. Hermione won't likely get off so easily if it comes out. She'll be seen as the instigator of the affair, regardless of if she was or not, and in all likelihood, the public will see your relationship with her as her making another attempt to hook someone famous. Your best defense, as cold as it sounds, would be to keep your relationship with Hermione as much a secret as you kept your relationship with Albus. You two haven't spoken in years, so it's not as though the public will be surprised if you two suddenly _stop_ seeing one another socially. But if you create a situation in which you can see each other professionally speaking… if she were to become a Professor, for instance, then you'd have access to one another and could build a life together easily, with the public being none the wiser. If the secret about Albus ever came out, you'd be safely out of the line of fire. Best yet, when her son comes to Hogwarts, she'll get to see him every day."

"You present a good case," Minerva hedged. "Obviously, I'd need to talk to Hermione. Does she even have a Mastery?"

Filius laughed. "Your little know-it-all has _three_."

She gaped. There was so much she needed to learn about Hermione Granger. "She's not _mine_," she finally managed to sputter in retort.

The Charms Professor got a glint in his eye that Minerva found rather unsettling. "Not yet, apparently. Honestly, I expected you to have more game. Get to it then," he said, nodding to the door.

At that, the Headmistress of Hogwarts stood up and stormed off in a huff, leaving her laughing friend behind.

* * *

Hermione sat on her sofa, curled up to watch a muggle film in hopes of distracting her from the fact that Minerva was surely coming to the reasonable conclusion that getting involved with her was a bad idea on every level. The fact that she hadn't stormed off at dinner last night had been cause for hope, certainly, but Hermione knew better than to set her hopes too high. She'd been let down too much for that. Minerva was well practiced at schooling her features, and so for all Hermione knew she'd been internally completely put off and simply kind enough to spare her feelings by letting her down gently.

As such, for the second date in a row, she'd resisted the urge to kiss Minerva McGonagall, no matter how much she'd wanted to. It had been harder to walk away this time, and she knew she wouldn't be able to do so a third time. Minerva needed to make a choice, one way or another, before there would be any more dates. She was in, or she was out. Hermione had not set a time limit on how long she had to think things over, although she hoped it wouldn't be too long. The wait was excruciating.

It was Saturday evening, and she was midway through the third film of the day. She couldn't honestly have told anyone what any of the films had been about, or what films they'd even been, because she'd not really been paying attention. They were just background noise. They were something to say she'd been doing if anyone asked, because telling someone that she'd spent today thinking of Minerva - of days gone by, and of what could be between them - seemed pathetic on so many levels. Not that anyone had asked. Harry knew what was going on, and he wasn't daft enough to try to talk to her right now. The reason everything was so complicated right now was, in part, his fault.

He'd been the one to initiate their coupling. While she'd never claim he'd forced her, never call it rape, and certainly admit she could have told him _no_ and hadn't, the fact of the matter was that in the whole of their history, Hermione had never been able to tell Harry Potter _no_, and that night hadn't been a damn bit different. Ginny had been struggling with postpartum depression and been distant and Harry had been lonely. Hermione had just ended a relationship with a muggle woman she'd been seeing. It was Halloween and one drink led to another, and another, and before they quite knew what was happening, his loneliness and her grief were jokingly suggesting life would be easier if they'd just fallen for each other.

Not five minutes after that comment, Ginny had come through the kitchen with James in hand, and said she was going over to the Burrow for a while to visit with her mum. It had never crossed Ginny's mind that leaving Harry and Hermione alone together was a bad idea, and even in retrospect Ginny admitted that even if she hadn't been struggling with depression, she still probably would have left them alone. There had just never been any indication the two of them saw one another as anything other than friends. After Ginny was gone, an internal war began raging within Harry, who unlike Hermione, had secretly harbored an attraction to his friend. Hermione had been drunkenly oblivious until Harry eventually kissed her, an unspoken question in his eyes to give him just this once.

Judgment impaired, a potential pregnancy had not even crossed Hermione's mind. All she remembered worrying about was _what if Ginny found out?_ and ultimately concluding that she and Harry had kept secrets before, and could do it again. That had been the sum of her thoughts before sensation overruled and she thought about nothing else until it was over and couldn't be undone. Then, she tried her very best _not_ to think about it at all until six weeks later. At that point, when she found out she was pregnant with Albus, what she and Harry had done became the focus of her life.

Her relationship with Harry had never really recovered. They were still close, but it was different. They were close like former lovers, not like best friends, and only Ginny understood the shift in how they behaved around each other. Both of their friendships with Ron had suffered in the last four years. Keeping the truth about Albus from him had created a wall between him and Harry and Hermione, and day by day that wall grew higher and higher. At this point, they saw him at family gatherings and it was always wonderful when they did, but they rarely sought each other out socially otherwise. Ron had gotten married last year to a fellow Auror - Maggie - and seemed happy enough with his life.

A knock on her door startled Hermione out of her thoughts. She stood, clipped her hair up in a french twist quickly to get it out of her face, and answered the door. It was Minerva. "May I come in?"

"Of course," she replied softly.

"You've got a nice place," the older witch commented, looking around. "Plenty of bookshelves."

Hermione laughed a little. "A selling point, I assure you. Can I get you some tea?"

"When have you ever known me to turn down tea?" Minerva asked.

The younger woman raised an eyebrow. "I can think of a few occasions. Only in favor of brandy, however."

"I don't think I want alcohol to be a part of this conversation."

"You've come to a decision, then?" Hermione asked.

Minerva took a seat at the kitchen table as Hermione put on the kettle. "Do you honestly think I'd be here if I had not?"

Taking a seat next to the older woman, she shook her head. "Of course not. Let's have it then."

"It's not so cut and dry as yes or no," Minerva started. "Hear me out?"

"Of course."

"First of all, I have to confess that I went to Filius for advice, and in the process of me being _very_ vague about the situation, the Head of Ravenclaw House accurately guessed the details. He's sworn an oath to me to keep what he knows a secret," Minerva began.

Hermione reeled. She couldn't begrudge the older woman seeking council, nor could she criticise her choice in counselor. Still, she hated that someone else knew about her son. Nothing to be done for it now, however, so she opted to accept reality with grace. It was obvious by the tension in Minerva's shoulders that she was expecting a poor reaction. "And the man has the gall to call me a know-it-all," she finally settled on in response.

The Headmistress outright laughed. "Indeed. In any case, he shares your concerns, should the truth about Albus come out while you and I were involved, how that might impact me."

"I'm glad someone does," Hermione huffed. "You didn't seem particularly concerned about it last evening."

"I don't want to end my career in a blaze of glory, Hermione," Minerva said. "But I chose career over love once, and I will _never_ do that again."

"Dougal," Hermione acknowledged.

"Dougal," Minerva agreed. "I got a second chance with Albus. After I lost him, I thought for sure that was it for me. Most people are lucky to find love _once,_ Hermione. I've found it twice already. Now, I'm seeing the possibility of finding it a third time. With a woman, no less! Insane as that is, I'm not about to look a gift horse in the mouth!"

"Even at the expense of your career?"

"Not ideally," the older woman admitted, "but if it came down to a choice, then yes. Filius suggests a course of action which will help prevent that from becoming an issue, however."

Hermione was interested. Annoyed as she was about the Charms Professor guessing her secret so damn easily, he was a bloody genius, and any plan of his was bound to be a good one. "Go on."

"He thinks the most likely public response to the truth of Albus' parentage will be to assume you were the aggressor, trying to secure a hold on the Potter fortune, and that your present relationship with me was further evidence of that fact. They'd imply they you were with me for my money, as you'd had a child with Harry for _his _money," Minerva explained.

Hermione felt like she'd been kicked in the gut. A part of her already knew this was probably how the public would react, but hadn't let herself think about it. A part of her had hoped that if it ever came out, the actual truth would matter and the fact that Harry had been the one to make the first move would get her out of the line of public fire, at least somewhat. In reality, she knew better. She knew she was Muggleborn, and she knew that for however much the war had changed things, some things were still the same. Some prejudices were still firmly in place. That wasn't even counting the sexism. "He's probably right," she finally agreed in a whisper.

"He suggests that we prevent that argument from ever being available by doing what Albus and I did. It's been years since we've been seen together socially. If we became coworkers, and maintained a publically cordial relationship, keeping our romantic relationship out of the public eye entirely, the public would never be able to use it against you, Harry, or me," Minerva concluded.

"You want me to come work at Hogwarts?" Hermione gaped, flabbergasted. To get to be with Minerva? And work at Hogwarts? And protect her secret? All at the same time? She was going to _kiss_ Filius the next time she saw him if he'd actually talked Minerva into this.

"Well, according to Filius you have three damn Masteries so I don't see how on earth I couldn't find a way to put you on the staff somewhere," Minerva groused. "Though as I didn't know you had _any_ Masteries I'm dying to know _which_ Masteries you have."

Hermione grinned widely. "I bet you are."

"Oh, come on!"

"A bit sad you didn't know about at least the one, as I got it at Hogwarts, apprenticed to one of your Professors," Hermione teased. "I was in and out of the castle, right under your nose just after Albus was born. My most recent Mastery, actually."

"Hermione!" Minerva growled.

"Charms," she finally admitted, hoping that her former mentor didn't get into too much trouble with his boss.

"FILIUS?" Minerva shouted. "THAT SNEAKY LITTLE…"

"Oh, be nice," Hermione chastised. "You were singing his praises not two minutes ago."

Minerva calmed herself. "Alright. Fine. I can thank my traitor of a best friend for your Charms Mastery," she said through clenched teeth. "What are your other two Masteries?"

"Potions and Defense," Hermione gave. "Under Snape for the first, and I just tested freeform at the Ministry in '02 for Defense after Harry dared me to."

"After Harry dared…" Minerva shook her head. "How did you get a Mastery under Severus? He was dead before you'd graduated Hogwarts."

"Simple," she shrugged. "I had my Potions Mastery prior to my graduation from Hogwarts."

Minerva blinked at her. "What?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I made Polyjuice Potion in my second year. Severus took me under his wing, secretly, at the beginning of third when I had the time turner. We continued on through fourth, fifth, and sixth. By Christmas break that year, he thought I was ready, and he took me to the Ministry for the Mastery exam. I was already seventeen so I didn't need guardian consent. I passed without issue. Why did you think I didn't take Potions when Harry, Ron and I returned the year after the war?"

"You weren't interested in learning more about Potions?" Minerva suggested weakly.

"I wasn't interested in learning?" Hermione repeated pointedly.

"Okay," the older witch admitted. "I should have found that suspicious. I guess I was just a bit distracted by this woman who was coming 'round my place for dinner every week. Distracted enough to not notice details like that."

Hermione stood from the table, and after taking Minerva's hand, pulled the other woman to her feet. "You still haven't told me what you've decided. You've only told me how Filius suggested it could work. You should know me well enough to know that I'd jump at the chance to work at Hogwarts. I could teach any of those subjects, or I could probably test for a Mastery in another subject and pass if you needed a Professor elsewhere. Or, if you could talk Pince into retiring, you know I'd take over the Library in a heartbeat. I know what _can _be done, but what do you _want?_"

Minerva's hand raised to caress the younger woman's cheek. "I want what we had ten years ago. I want what I was stupid enough to walk away from, then. I want what we're doing right here, right now. I want everything that made us, _us_. Just _this_, Hermione," she whispered.

It was the kind of moment in which it was clear there was an invitation to kiss, and Hermione knew it. She also knew that Minerva was not prepared to make the first move in that regard. It was probably the only reason that they hadn't already kissed. It had crossed her mind only an hour before that she didn't think she could walk away from a third opportunity to kiss this woman, and it turned out, she was right.

She leaned forward, and lips met with a moan. Hermione wasn't sure which of them had made the sound, or if both of them had, but it was the first of many as one kiss turned into two, and two became a full on snog, and before there was any sign of the contact coming to an end, Hermione had hoisted Minerva onto the table they'd just been sitting at so that she could wrap her jean clad legs around Hermione's hips. "Shouldn't rush…" Hermione reasoned as Minerva's lips started trailing down her neck. If they didn't stop this posthaste, they were going to end up shagging.

Minerva growled into her shoulder, but stopped regardless, lifting her head and pressing one more kiss to Hermione's lips before simply settling her hands around the younger witch's neck. She seemed oddly content to be sitting on Hermione's table, disheveled, legs wrapped around a much younger woman who used to be her student. "Now what?" she asked lazily.

_My, my, how her tune has changed,_ Hermione thought with a smirk.

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**PLEASE REVIEW!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I am evidently on a roll. I do however, want to address a point a reviewer made before we jump into the next chapter. "Lib McGranger" asked why Hermione didn't just raise Albus as a single parent. I did not address this in the story specifically and if I do address it at all it will be very briefly and later, so I wanted to answer now. Simply put, the answer is the Potter curse. Canonically, wild dark hair has been passed down to every Potter male for as long as anyone remembers. It's a dead giveaway that says Potter. When Hermione knew for sure she was having a son, which given the wizarding world I always figure would be pretty early on, she felt it was too risky to claim a child that would almost certainly look so much like Harry that no one would question who the father of her child was. Further, while she'd not had plans to be a mother, he was already prepared to be a father. They made the best of a bad situation. Now, on to the next chapter: **

* * *

Minerva frowned at the group of second year boys in front of her. Teddy Lupin, of Hufflepuff, had quickly made friends with David Crider and Ryan Brookens of Gryffindor when he'd come to Hogwarts, alongside a Slytherin boy, Artemis Flint. Much to Minerva's surprise, the Flint boy had not come to school spouting Pureblood supremacy nonsense. His mother had been a Ravenclaw halfblood who Voldemort had killed, which it seemed had turned a formally bullying Marcus Flint against the Dark Lord's ways. Left to raise his son alone, Marcus had fled Europe and had only returned last year when Artemis reached Hogwarts age. To see a boy of that stock willingly spending time with two Gryffindor muggleborns and a Hufflepuff son of a Werewolf was something of an oddity, but the four were fast friends.

Therein lay the problem. As it happened, Crider and Brookens planted dung bombs in each and every girls' bathroom in the school, set to go off as soon as the first unfortunate young lady settled on a toilet in whatever given bathroom. They'd done so this morning just before breakfast. Unfortunately, while Minerva had several students claiming to have seen Crider and Brookens wandering the corridors early this morning, she also had Flint and Lupin, swearing that they'd been with Crider and Brookens in the Library before breakfast this morning, studying for a Potions exam they had directly _after_ breakfast. The little idiots even had a pile of study notes as evidence.

Lupin and Flint provided Crider and Brookens with alibis, and her real problem was that the two students who had reportedly seen Crider and Brookens in the corridors before breakfast were fellow second years from Slytherin House who fell into the part of the student body who came from families who were having trouble letting go of old prejudices. They were exactly the sort of students who might try to frame a couple of Muggleborns of wrongdoing.

_Somebody_ was lying. Specifically, a quick check with the Hogwarts wards confirmed that it was, in fact, Crider and Brookens who were the culprits, but the fact remained that only she, as Headmistress, could access that information, and she was not interested in creating an image for herself like Albus had done. She did not want to be seen as all-knowing, and so if she could not find evidence others could see to support the truth, she could not press the issue. Minerva glanced over at Teddy, somehow expecting better of him than the other boys. She knew who had raised him. She knew Harry had raised him to tell the truth.

That thought felt like a slap in the face, and she blinked slowly and turned away from the students. Had Harry raised Teddy to tell the truth? Teddy had been nine when Albus had been born. Eight when he'd been conceived. He had to know the truth, which meant that the boy in front of her had, in fact, been raised to lie. Harry Potter was raising his godson to _lie_.

She cleared her throat. "Until further evidence presents, I see no reason to dock points or issue punishments. I do ask that the lot of you do consider how others may be impacted by your actions, and by your inactions. Dismissed."

She couldn't bear to look at the boy, and didn't turn to face him and his peers. Silently, she walked over to the floor to ceiling window at the far end of her office and stared out over the Black Lake, reconsidering the position she and Hermione were taking. She and Albus had lived a lie and hidden their relationship for numerous reasons. Mostly, it was politics. Never had it impacted anyone other than the two of them, however. They'd both been agreeable to the situation, and understood that lying about the nature of their relationship did not mean that lying in other aspects of their lives was alright. They'd never had children of their own who would see their example and follow it.

Hermione, however, had Albus Severus. Harry had Albus as well as James, Lily, and Teddy. If she was going to be as much a part of Hermione's life as she hoped to be, then the role of being an example to Albus would also fall to her. Meanwhile, the truth of Albus' birth was a secret they absolutely did need to keep, but the truth of her relationship with Hermione… that was just preventive, and singularly selfish.

It benefited nobody but herself, and it set a horrible example for the children, enforcing a lesson that, as Teddy had recently evidenced, they absolutely did not need to be enforcing. Minerva thought that another conversation needed to be had, and it probably needed to include Harry and Ginny this time. She supposed it might as well include Filius too, since he did know, and was always good for offering perspective.

For the second time in as many days, Minerva found herself trudging down to Filius' office. "I can't do it," she said without preamble. "Lie."

Filius looked up from the grading he'd been doing and sighed. "Gryffindor ethics," he muttered. "What did it? What changed your mind? When we spoke last night after you returned from Hermione's flat, you seemed certain of the direction you were going. After you lectured me about conducting Apprenticeships without your permission, that is."

"Your questionable ethics is where your Goblin heritage comes out, my friend," Minerva accused. "Greatest advantage doesn't always equate to the greatest gain. I cannot in good conscience put my _potential _career risk ahead of a child's need to learn to tell the truth."

"Lupin?"

"Boldfaced lied to cover for his friends over a _prank_," Minerva groused. "I understood when Hermione lied to protect Harry and Ron over that troll business their first year, because there was a heartfelt reason behind that, but in this case, it was just an issue of avoiding punishment. It was about being an alibi simply because he could. That pattern of behavior is reminiscent of certain Death Eaters I remember."

"I wouldn't go that far, Minerva," Filius said calmly. "The prank was not harmful. It was much like his father, Potter, Black, and Pettigrew might have done back in the day."

"And they all ended up dead," she retorted. "Pardon me for wanting better for the boy."

"Their deaths, with the exception of Mister Pettigrew, were not a result of poor choices, but rather of honorable ones," Filius said gently. "I'm not suggesting that Teddy should be encouraged to lie, nor am I going to bother trying to talk you out of being open about your relationship with Hermione. You've made up your mind and you're damn stubborn. There's no point in arguing with you on that end. Just don't give the boy up for a loss just yet. Not many thirteen year olds can keep a secret capable of tearing a family asunder. There's more of his father in him than I think you realize."

Minerva didn't disagree, but she did feel like she had to do something about it. She had to find a way to take the burden of this secret off poor Teddy's shoulders, without destroying Hermione and Harry's lives in the process. There _had_ to be a way. She hadn't been considered for Ravenclaw House for no good reason, she thought ruefully. She was going to find a way.

* * *

After another conversation with Minerva, Hermione had agreed that adding another secret to their lives was impractical and, if they meant to be any sort of good example for the children around them, ill-advised. That said, now that Minerva knew Hermione had a Potions Mastery and the Professor she'd had at Hogwarts the last twelve years was dreadfully inept compared to Severus, she planned to let him go at the end of the year, and Hermione would take his place in the fall. Besides, Professor Peters had only stayed this long because Minerva had begged him not to go. He'd leave without a fuss, and gladly so according to the Headmistress.

Open about their relationship or not, maintaining a romance with the Head of Hogwarts would be difficult if she was not _at_ Hogwarts. May was nearly over, which meant that Albus was nearing four years old. He and Harry had almost shared a birthday; Harry's July thirty-first, to Albus' August first. James had turned six on the third of this month, and Lily had turned two at the end of March. A loud _pop_ indicated Minerva's arrival, and after sharing a tender kiss, the two made their way down the path toward their intended destination of Potter Manor. Minerva, who had not been here since it had been owned by James and Lily Potter, shivered as they entered the house where her former students had been murdered, and their now grown son had been orphaned. Filius, it appeared, had already arrived and was chatting amicably with the Potters.

"Mionny!"

Hermione warmed as her son spotted her, and ran into her waiting arms. "How's my boy?" she cooed, nuzzling him. "Have you been good for daddy and mum?"

"Tippy not be losing Master Albus again!" an exasperated looking House Elf said, ambling into the kitchen. Then, after relieving Hermione of the little boy who was _supposed to be_ in the playroom with his brother and sister, vanished soundlessly along with the child.

"Eh, welcome, Professor," Harry greeted awkwardly, reminding Hermione that the world did not in fact revolve around her and her son and that she best get back to the rest of her actual life.

"Harry, I am in your house wearing muggle blue jeans, and I just kissed the mother of your younger son in your front garden," Minerva said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "How about we drop the formality? _Minerva_ will do fine."

Ginny snorted, and failed to hide a grin as poor Harry went wide eyed and pale, obviously mortified at every aspect of that sentence.

"Cat got your tongue, Harry?" Hermione asked when he failed to respond.

"I think the cat's got your tongue, 'Mione," Ginny posed, "or at least, she did a bit ago."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Minerva just sighed in exasperation. Harry made a gagging sound which she took to be some progress. "Honestly Harry. It's not like you didn't know how I felt about her," the younger witch muttered.

"I know," he finally said, taking a deep breath. "To be clear, I have absolutely no problem with the notion of you two… whatever. Whatever the bloody hell makes her happy, makes me happy. I just did not and _do not_ need details. At all. As in _any_."

Minerva appeared irritated by this declaration. "For fuck's sake, Potter. You've seen the woman naked. You can get the hell over it if we happen to kiss in front of you now and then."

"I knew I agreed to come to this get together for a reason," Filius chortled from where he was sitting in the corner.

Ginny pulled five tumblers down from a shelf, and a bottle of Firewhiskey.

"Gin, Professor McGonagall just said _fuck_," Harry said, eyes wide and round.

The ginger witch patted her husband on the shoulder. "Thus the Firewhiskey."

Hermione guffawed as both Harry and Minerva immediately reached for the bottle and glasses, and in that moment as both of their hands were on the bottle, they seemed to reach a silent understanding. "I reckon you were saying fuck long before I was," Harry finally said, letting the bottle go and putting ice in two glasses.

Minerva poured for both of them, and then they each picked up a glass and took a seat, and then a sip. "A lady doesn't kiss and tell," she said with a smirk.

Harry blanched at the implication of exactly what circumstances might have led Minerva to have used the word _fuck_ with any regularity, and then took a large swig of his drink. "You are trying to get a rise out of me," he accused.

"Absolutely," she admitted. "Didn't you spend eight years at Hogwarts doing the same to me?"

"No!" Harry denied. "Not purposely!"

Hermione came up behind Minerva and wrapped her arms around the older woman's waist. "Why, when something happens, is it always you three?" she asked teasingly, remembering Minerva's exasperated question from many years ago. Hermione pointed at Harry, Ginny, and Minerva in turn to identify the three _she_ meant. "Can we focus please? You and Harry can duel it out another time."

The Headmistress and Auror regarded each other and Hermione's suggestion to duel out their differences, and both offered a half shrug that meant _we'll talk about it_. The younger witch promised herself to keep an eye on the two of them for the foreseeable future. Merlin knew what sort of shape she'd get either of them back in if they ever actually went at it.

"Alright," Minerva said, sitting back in the chair. "While I understand that at this point you've been presenting to everyone that Albus is Harry's son with Ginny, I suggest that you preemptively out yourselves."

Hermione had _not_ seen that coming. When her paramour had requested a meeting to discuss the situation with her, the Potters, and Filius, she'd agreed without question. She'd known Minerva was not comfortable with the notion of keeping their relationship a secret, but the idea that she might out the secret that she, Harry, and Ginny had so closely guarded over the last four and a half years was ludicrous! "What?" she exclaimed. "Minerva, are you out of your mind?"

"Please, all of you, hear me out," Minerva asked. "Each of you has put your trust in me at one point or another and I have not let you down before. I'm asking you to trust that I have your interests at heart. Let me explain my idea. I promise, I will not go forward with this plan without everyone's agreement."

"I trust her," Ginny put forward first. "You two idiots weren't there that last year, but Filius, I'm sure you remember…"

The half-Goblin nodded. "That she's at her best under the worst of pressure?" he concluded.

The ginger witch nodded. "Wild, the shite McGonagall pulled while you two were on the run with Ron. I almost - _almost _\- felt bad for the Carrows."

"I wasn't that bad," Minerva muttered.

Filius guffawed. "You turned them into mice and set Mrs. Norris on them!"

Harry looked at his former Head of House in awe. "Did you really?"

She shrugged. "Thought they might like to see how it felt to be chased around by something bigger and more powerful than them. It was an object lesson, really."

"Minerva!" Hermione chastised. "You might have gotten them killed!"

"AND?!" Harry and Ginny asked at the same time.

Filius cleared his throat. "Your plan, Minerva?"

"Right," the Headmistress said. "So here's what I'm thinking. We cover the truth with a lie that's easier to maintain. We admit that Albus is genetically the son of Harry and Hermione, though we claim that Hermione and I have been involved since right after the war…"

Hermione raised an eyebrow at this, curious when the hell Minerva was planning on consulting her about this grand plan of hers.

"...and that Harry was nothing more than a sperm donor so that Hermione and I might have a child of our own. We publically proceed as if Albus is and has always been, mine and Hermione's son legally speaking. I've got enough clout with the records department at the Ministry to make that happen on paper."

"How would we explain the fact that Albus lives with us part time?" Harry asked. "Because I'm sorry Minerva, but while I could be talked into giving Hermione more time with Albus to pull something like this off, full time would be out of the question. I couldn't go from being daddy to being nothing."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Biologically mine or not, I love Albus like he's one of my own. Not unlike how I feel about Teddy. I'd be concerned about how Albus' relationship with his brother and sister would develop as well. So yes, I'd agree with Harry. We'd have to have him at least part time."

"I did consider that," Minerva assured them. "My thought was that we explain to the public that, given Harry's personal history and lack of family, he wanted more involvement than the standard donor might. Given his and Hermione's long standing friendship, we came to an agreement that allowed for regular visitation with you. My thought is that we could tell the public that it's a monthly visit or some such - nothing too extreme that would make them question. How much he's actually there is none of their business, but it would explain him having a room in your home, and his familiarity with you and his siblings. As to how much he'd be with you and how much he'd be with Hermione and me…"

Hermione stepped in at that point. "That would be something to discuss if we even decide to go forward with this. I'd like to hear the reasoning behind Minerva's plan."

"Agreed," Harry said.

"If Hermione and I don't hide our relationship and the truth about Albus' birth comes out in a way other than of our own devising, we're all fucked," Minerva said succinctly. "We could just tell the total truth, but that's still going to rake at least some of us over the coals a good bit. We'd get some points for honesty. The truth about his birth could come out one of a million ways. He could get hurt and end up at Mungo's, and a blood test could show that he couldn't possibly be Ginny's child. He himself could overhear a conversation, or someone else could, and word could get out. For the love of Merlin, he's a Potions Mistress' son! The boy could make a Maternity Potion just because he felt like a good challenge and demand answers when the results show that his supposed godmother is actually his mother. Honestly, he's a damn Potter! If it _can_ go wrong, it bloody well _will!" _

Ginny raised one finger into the air. "She's not wrong there!"

"Shut up, Gin," Harry groused.

Minerva sighed, and then continued. "Once the documents are filed that indicate that Hermione and I are the legal parents of Albus, and were from the start, that paperwork _proves_ the story we want to tell. There is absolutely no evidence out there to the contrary, except for the word of those of us in this room who know differently. Teddy may be an issue, but if he's been mature enough to handle things thus far, I think he can be trusted to go along with whatever changes we make. We've all been exceedingly private about our personal lives. The public knows next to nothing about any of us beyond our professional images. Whatever we tell them would be accepted as a long awaited reveal. They'd have no reason to doubt if it was true."

"I'm seeing one flaw in your plan," Filius interjected.

Minerva nodded. "This is why I brought you along."

He chuckled. "And there I thought it was for my good looks. No, you said yourself that you have all been exceedingly private about your personal lives. So if I were the public, I would absolutely question why you would suddenly announce details about your personal lives."

The older woman frowned. "That is a point I hadn't considered."

Ginny chuckled darkly. "That's easy to fix."

Hermione knew her long-time friend very well, and she knew that mischievous gleam in the redhead's eye. She was not going to like whatever Ginny Potter was about to say. Not one bit. Worse, she was probably going to end up doing whatever the little witch said anyway. Damn. "What?" she asked warily.

"The last time any of us made any sort of public announcement regarding our private lives was to announce the birth of a child," the former Weasley began. "Sorry Hermione, but as I'm not letting you shag my husband again, that avenue is out of the question. Prior to that, it was to announce our engagement. So, you and McGonagall will simply have to get married."

Filius seemed to agree with Ginny. "That would work. It would also be pleasing to the portion of the public who might be upset that Hermione and Minerva chose to have a child prior to getting married. Most will have been accepting that a long term partnership warranted adding to the family, but some would prefer they officially tie the knot."

Hermione and Minerva both just stood there, aghast. "Do we get any say in this?" the Headmistress finally asked.

"This was your idea," Harry pointed out. "Besides, this saves me the trouble of giving you the lecture about making an honest woman out of my best friend."

"Harry!" Hermione snapped.

"I was thinking the same thing," Filius said, nodding at Harry. "Works out well, don't you think?"

"Filius!" Minerva groaned.

"What did you expect, Minerva?" the Charms Professor asked her, tone stern. "You came here with a rather wild, semi baked plan, and tossed it out to a Ravenclaw, a Potter, and a Weasley. Surely you didn't think we wouldn't make it interesting?"

Hermione decided right then and there that she had sorely underestimated Filius Flitwick. Lord Voldemort had nothing on this guy.

* * *

**PLEASE REVIEW! What do you guys think of a Filius Flitwick who is not quite as pure and perfect as he's usually portrayed? I'm really enjoying developing him into a more dynamic character, and I hope you are enjoying this rendition of him as well. **


	4. Chapter 4

**We take a short trip into the past in this chapter, and you may want to bring tissues. **

* * *

"Why did you keep it from me, Filius?" Minerva asked her best friend, who was soon to stand witness to a rather rushed marriage to a woman she could hardly claim to love just yet, but for whom she knew she cared deeply and would likely one day fall. Everything she did with Hermione, it seemed, was a leap of faith. "Your Apprenticeship with Hermione?"

Filius straightened his bow tie. "When she came to me and asked to apprentice, she almost seemed more wounded than she had after the war, if you can believe it. At the time I couldn't fathom why, although in retrospect it was obviously because she'd just had her son and walked away from him officially speaking, but all I could think about was what had happened the last time the two of you got involved while emotionally vulnerable. I've always known the two of you could be good together. The circumstances have just never been right. I was afraid that if too many poor situations saw you two together, then even a good meeting wouldn't matter, as there would be too much bad history by then. She was not inclined to see anyone - depression, you see - and I chose not to push."

"And Severus?" Minerva asked. "What do you suppose his reasons were for hiding the fact that he was teaching her from Albus and me? Surely if Albus had known, he'd have told his Deputy."

"Maybe, maybe not," Filius countered. "Albus didn't tell you everything. If he didn't know, however, then I'd expect that Severus was simply protecting his position. He was Head of Slytherin, a Spy, and openly antagonistic against Harry Potter. She was the Gryffindor Golden girl. The two of them having a meeting of the minds would have been a scandal. As Hermione got older, people may have even speculated that they were lovers."

"Nonsense!" the Scottish witch scoffed, unable to imagine Severus involved with a student.

"You got involved with a former student," her Charms Professor said pointedly, as if reading her mind. "It's not so far-fetched, and the two of them would have been closer in age than the two of you are. Further, both she and Severus were intelligent, bookish sorts, who had little care for what others think of them. They shared a sense of cunning, and a love for a good plan. The only thing that made their coupling wholly impractical was the fact that Hermione likes tits!"

Minerva snorted. "That would be an area I have Severus beat," she agreed, "though given that Hermione was in fact with Harry supposes that she's not entirely gay. Bisexual, perhaps. Could she and Severus have been involved?"

Filius shook his head. "I doubt that very much, although you could always ask Hermione to be certain. The impression I got from what little Hermione would say about their relationship during our Apprenticeship was that their relationship developed into something more akin to a brother and sister dynamic. His death hit her harder than she let on. The fact that I knew Harry had given Albus the middle name _Severus_ was part of what gave away the fact that Hermione was his mother. She'd be one of the few who would have cared deeply enough for the man to have named her child for him."

* * *

Hermione was getting married in a couple of hours. Harry would stand witness along with Ginny and Filius, and while so much of her was thrilled to _finally_ be marrying Minerva, even if it was insanely rushed and she wasn't really sure if they were ready, there was still a pang of regret. He should be here. All of this was his fault in the end, really. Knowing she had a bit of time to spare, and knowing it was as close as she could come to having Severus with her today, Hermione took out her wand, pulled out a selection of memories, and placed them in the Pensieve she'd requested Minerva leave out for her. Taking a deep breath, she bowed her head forward, and was plunged back to the beginning of her third year at Hogwarts.

"_Granger," Severus snapped. "Cease moving at once."_

_Hermione watched her younger self stop walking, startled by the looming Professor Snape who routinely ignored her in class and had never once approached her otherwise._ _She hadn't been in the castle a full day yet, so she couldn't possibly be in trouble! "Yes, Professor Snape?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the shake out of her voice._

"_Last term you successfully brewed Polyjuice Potion," he stated crisply. "Unsupervised. In a toilet. With two dunderheads to distract you."_

"_Um…" _

_Her younger self looked panicked. She had it on good authority that Severus had no evidence that she'd brewed Polyjuice, and yet here he was accurately accusing her. If she didn't admit it, there was nothing he could do. That said, however lanky the man might be, he was still imposing as he towered over a thirteen year old._

"_Do not - lie - to me," he demanded. "I am not interested in punishing you, Miss Granger. That potion is difficult for most seventh years to brew in a controlled environment. A student as gifted at potions as yourself is one in a million. As much as it pains me to admit this, that talent must be nurtured." _

"_Nur...nurtured, sir?" _

_Hermione laughed quietly at her younger self, and at Severus as he rolled his eyes as the little girl in front of him. "Come with me," he ordered harshly._

That had been the beginning of their Apprenticeship. She'd been sworn to secrecy, and at the time he'd told her it was because he wasn't interested in the Headmaster trying to force him to take on other apprentices in the future. It had made her feel special, so she'd kept quiet about it. Later, Severus had revealed his position as a spy, and about how he'd known the Headmaster wouldn't approve him getting close to Harry's best friend, and how he'd wanted _something_ for himself. He'd wanted to do some good for the world that didn't have anything to do with the Dark Lord. He'd wanted to mentor her. That knowledge had only endeared Severus Snape to her even more, although it wasn't the only thing that made her affection for the man grow. With a sigh, she let herself sink into another memory.

"_Weasley is an ape," Severus said pointedly. "I haven't the foggiest why you're giving him the time of day."_

"_He's been a dear friend for years," her fifth year self defended Ron. "We've been through a lot together. I like him, Severus. Why can't you be supportive?" _

_The Potions Master grunted. "That will be the day. First of all, Hermione, you need a partner who has a few brain cells. Second, for as much as I know you want to fit in and so forth, don't forget who you're talking to and how acute my powers of observation are. You look at the female population far more often than you look at the males. At what point are you going to admit to yourself that you're gay?"_

_Hermione watched her younger self look at Severus first in horror, then in conflict, and finally with grudging respect. Oh, how she missed having that utterly blunt presence in her life!_

"_Oh, bloody hell," her younger self muttered. "Fine then, Mister Know-It-All. If you're so smart, knowing I prefer women, and knowing how wrong Ron is for me, who would you suggest would be my perfect match?"_

"_What character traits would you say you most value?" he asked._

"_Loyalty. Bravery. Someone who will speak up for themselves. Passionate. Intelligent. Strong ethics," the list went on. "I'd like kids one day, so someone who isn't opposed to having children. Someone who will understand my loyalty to Harry."_

"_Anything else?" Severus pushed._

"_Everything else would be fluff," she admitted. "Those would be the must-haves."_

"_What about physical traits?"_

"_Oh, I'm not bothered by that," came an easy answer. "A body is just a body. Honestly, Severus, you may be right in saying that I do prefer women, but if the _right _man came along, I'd be open to it. I'm far more interested in the heart and soul of a person than I am their physical form."_

"_So age wouldn't concern you?" the Potions Professor hedged. "A companion who was younger, or older?"_

"_Presuming they were of legal age, of course not," Hermione replied. "Mind you, I'm not even of legal age yet so this whole conversation is speculative."_

_Severus chuckled. "Many of our conversations are speculative. That doesn't make them any less enlightening. It simply means you have information that you have to wait to act on. To that end, my suggestion would be Minerva."_

"_McGonagall? What of her?"_

"_You inquired who I would suggest for a partner for you," he replied. "You and Minerva would suit one another very well."_

"_You're barking mad!" _

Hermione laughed at her younger self's declaration, appreciating the irony. She wished Severus was still here to say "_I told you so." _After that conversation with Severus, she'd certainly looked at Minerva differently, and it had led to her being open to pursuing a friendship with the older witch after the war ended. She'd put the idea of romance out of her mind on the grounds that it was ludicrous, but that year as she and Minerva had grown closer, there had been a nagging voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Severus Snape asking her if her feelings were really so platonic. Eventually, she couldn't say _no_ anymore. By then, he'd been dead.

_The Battle of Hogwarts was just beginning, although her younger self had no idea that's what it would later be titled. All her younger self knew was that the chances of her and Severus both surviving the night were incredibly slim, and that she had to see him one more time. No matter what Harry said, she would not believe he'd really killed Dumbledore with malicious intent, and right now, she was betting her life on it. Harry was looking for the Diadem. She'd sent Ron to the Chamber to get some Basilisk fangs. She was making her way to the Headmaster's office. "Polyjuice," she whispered, praying the password was the same as it had been for his old office._

_It was._

_She was greeted at wand point, and by a stunned looking Severus, obviously startled that someone had managed to get into his office without his permission. Hermione watched as her younger self said nothing, just staring at him until he eventually dropped his wand and pulled her tightly into his arms, hugging her for all that he was worth. _

"_You shouldn't be here," he muttered into her hair. "Dammit, Hermione, you shouldn't be here."_

"_I don't care," she said, sniffling. "I had to see you. I had to know. There was an arrangement between you and Dumbledore, wasn't there? His death was planned."_

_Hermione saw the conviction, the certainty in her younger self's eyes, and was in awe. She didn't have that anymore. After what had happened on this night, she'd come out the other side too jaded for that kind of pure faith. Still, she was glad she'd had it then, because if she hadn't, she wouldn't have had this moment with Severus._

_The Potions Master nodded in confirmation. "He was already dying," he admitted. "Not that I expect Minerva to ever forgive me in any case. She might have had a few more weeks, or even months with him. I took that from her."_

_At the time, Hermione had not thought much of Severus' comment regarding Minerva's forgiveness, but now, it seemed blatantly clear that either Minerva or Albus had at some point told him about their marriage. He obviously knew. _

"_Under his orders," Hermione assumed correctly._

"_Orders I chose to follow," Severus replied miserably. _

_With a heavy sigh, the younger Hermione pulled away from Severus. "I have to get back to Harry. With everything that's happening tonight, I just couldn't risk the chance that I'd die and never get to tell you something."_

_He looked at the ceiling and groaned. "Bloody Gryffindor."_

_His gaze returned to her a moment later though, and she continued to speak. "Severus Snape, I love you. You are the big brother I never had, and never knew I needed. You're stupid sometimes, but you're mine. You're also the smartest, bravest, kindest man I've ever had the privilege to know, and if you get yourself killed, I swear to Merlin I'm going to name my first born son after you just to piss you off."_

"_You wouldn't dare."_

"_I bloody well would!"_

_Severus pulled her in for another hug. "I love you too, Hermione. And all the rest. I already planned to leave everything to you if something happens to me, you know. I'm terrible about talking about how I feel."_

"_Yeah," she huffed. "You are."_

"_That's what I have my little sister for," he murmured. "To teach me about that sort of thing." _

* * *

The clerk was at least one-hundred years old, Minerva mused. She wasn't sure if he could actually see them, but by this point in his career he had the ceremony memorized, surely. So far, so good, anyhow. It was almost over. "Do you, Minerva McGonagall, take Hermione Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

Minerva looked at Hermione, who grinned expectantly at her. Somehow, despite this being her own damn idea, it was the younger woman who seemed to be more certain about what they were doing. She'd said something about liquid courage, but there was no alcohol on her breath. "I do," the Scottish witch agreed with a nod, squeezing Hermione's fingers.

"And do you, Hermione Granger, take Minerva McGonagall to be _your_ lawfully wedded wife?" the clerk inquired, turning to the other woman.

Hermione let out a happy sigh. "I do," she said, almost disbelieving. There was no doubt in her tone, but there was marked disbelief, which Minerva found intriguing. She knew that Hermione had been interested in her all those years ago, but had that interest been stronger than the younger woman had previously admitted? Was Hermione already in love with her, despite comments to the contrary?

"Then I now pronounce you legally bound," the old wizard said calmly. "Not sure who's on top in this relationship, but whichever it is, you may kiss your bride."

Ginny cackled, Harry gagged, and Filius nudged Hermione forward. Hermione of course was happy to oblige, quickly wrapping one hand around Minerva's waist, and the other cupped her cheek, pulling her in on both counts for a toe curling kiss. Minerva's hands wrapped around Hermione's neck for support and by the time the kiss ended, she was dizzy.

"Well," the clerk said. "That answers that. Good day, Headmistress _Granger_. Lady Granger, I'll file the appropriate forms and send them to you at Hogwarts."

There was a stunned silence for a full minute after he exited the room.

"I did not see that coming," Harry said. "Figured 'Mione would be walking out of here a McGonagall."

"I honestly hadn't put much thought into it at all," Hermione admitted.

"Nor I," Minerva concurred.

Filius' shoulders were shaking. The diminutive man was laughing, silently, or at least trying to. "Oh gods. Sorry Minerva, but the look on your face… sweet Merlin…"

"You knew!" Ginny accused, grinning ear to ear.

"McGonagall isn't a wizarding name," he said. "It came from Minerva's muggle father. Nor is Granger. As such, legally speaking neither name would have had preference in a bonding ceremony. The next legal deciding factor would have been Head of House. Normally that's the male by default, but as both of you are women, it is whoever steps forward and magically claims the position. In this instance, it was you, Hermione. You claimed Head of Household, and as such, mazel tov, you're Grangers."

"Well," Harry said with a sigh, "That may be for the best in the long run anyway. Making Albus a Granger would be more appropriate than making him a McGonagall. No offense, Minerva."

"None taken," the Headmistress excused. "Let's get out of here."

"Yes," Hermione said with a grin. "I do believe my wife and I have a honeymoon to get on with."

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "Didn't you say you wanted to make a stop first?"

"My parents," Hermione remembered, shoulders sagging. "That's going to be fun."

"Plus side, you'll get to tell them you didn't lose your name," she offered, hoping to lighten the mood. "Although I have no idea how I'm going to adapt to being Minerva _Granger_ at this point in my life. I didn't take Albus' name you know. It wasn't an option because we'd hidden our marriage. I've always been McGonagall."

"Minerva Granger," Hermione tested. "I like how that sounds."

"They're going to start snogging again," Ginny predicted as Hermione's hand slid around Minerva's hip.

"Are we done here?" Harry asked. "Filius? Have we done what we needed to do?"

"You two can go," the Charms Professor agreed. "I'd like a word with the newlyweds before they run off, however."

Harry and Ginny offered congratulations, and confirmed plans to meet up next week to discuss the particulars about custody arrangements for Albus, and then the Potters took a Floo from the Ministry Atrium, presumably back home. Filius turned to his friend and her new wife. "I think you should tell the staff before you leave, Minerva," he said seriously. "Hogwarts will have magically updated things like the nameplate on your office door. I think Pomona, Poppy, and the rest would rather find out from you than any other way."

"We can do that before we talk to my parents, certainly," Hermione encouraged. "I can either go with you, or wait for you elsewhere if you'd prefer to tell them alone."

Minerva appreciated the fact that Hermione was giving her options. It seemed, lately, that her options were becoming more and more limited the more she let Hermione into her life, and yet somehow, she didn't seem to care. She was fairly sure it had something to do with the fact that her brain turned to sludge every single time the woman kissed her. Minerva didn't even want to know how much power Hermione would have over her in a post-orgasmic state. Gods, it was going to be one hell of a wedding night.

"I'd like you with me," she decided. "Mostly because, despite my generally stoic nature, I fear half the staff will think I'm playing a big joke on them when I tell them I've just married a beautiful witch forty-five years my junior."

"So you want us to kiss and tell?" Hermione asked, smirking.

"Oh, that would be fun," Filius agreed.

"Most certainly not!" Minerva objected forcefully. Then, in a much calmer voice which almost sounded like a whimper, she admitted, "I need to be capable of coherent thought, Hermione."

Hermione seemed to have mercy on her wife, and just nodded and took her hand, guiding her to the nearest Floo. "Hogwarts," she called, and all three of them stepped through to the Head's office.

They'd made it through the Floo and could already hear pounding on the office door. "You'll open up this bloody door if you know what's good for you, Granger!" Pomona Sprout's voice could be heard from the other side. "War hero or not, I'll be damned if I let some up and coming little swot push Minerva aside like this! No thank you missy! You are not _my_ Headmistress!"

Filius raised an eyebrow, understanding, and Minerva did as well. Bless the Herbology Professor and her Hufflepuff loyalty. She'd seen _Headmistress Granger_ appear on the door and assumed the Board had given the post to Hermione, effectively replacing Minerva. The notion that Minerva had taken the name _Granger_ had not entered her mind as a possibility.

"That's so sweet!" Hermione almost cooed. "I can't even be insulted."

The point of coming back here posthaste had been to head off this sort of nonsense, Minerva thought ruefully. "Open," she commanded.

Pomona barrelled through the door like a hippogriff seeing red. "Now you look here, missy!" she said, bee-lining toward Hermione. "I don't know who you think - "

"Eh-hem," Minerva cleared her throat. "Pomona, dear?"

The other witch stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face her boss and friend. "Minerva?" she questioned. Pomona had obviously not expected to see Minerva, much less see her calm and collected, and rather relaxed.

"Would you kindly cease insulting my wife?" the Headmistress requested gently. "She is not taking my place as Headmistress at this time, and if she ever does it will be because she has earned the right to do so. The change of name on my office door is simply a reflection of my own recent change of surname, per aforementioned _wife_."

Pomona gaped. "On so, so many levels… bloody _hell_. How long has this been going on?"

"Since right after the end of the war," Hermione answered, moving over to Minerva and taking her hand. "We've kept it quiet for obvious reasons. We've decided to go public at this point, however, and as such started that process with officially getting married. It was something we couldn't do if we meant to keep our relationship a secret."

"Eleven years?" Pomona screeched. "How the hell do you keep a lover a secret for eleven years, Minerva?"

"With great care," she replied. "And it's not as though I didn't have practice. I'd already hidden one marriage, although he'd died almost two years before Hermione and I got involved."

Minerva took a deep breath. This part of their cover story was one of the few elements that she didn't care for. It was true, which made it worth using to concrete things, but it meant uncovering a truth she'd meant to take to her grave. Letting the public know that she'd already once kept a long term relationship secret and having plenty of proof to that end would serve as evidence to support the idea that she could also keep a relationship with Hermione secret for a number of years.

"Who were you bloody well married to before?!" Pomona snapped.

"I'm curious about that myself," Filius put in.

_Ha_, Minerva thought. For once, something he hadn't already figured out. "Albus and I were married in 1966," she said succinctly, "and remained so until the day he died."

Hermione rubbed her back lightly in gentle support as Filius and Pomona both nearly gave themselves whiplash turning their heads toward the wall of portraits. "Albus!" Pomona screeched.

Minerva smiled softly as the portrait version of her deceased husband smiled at the irate Herbology Professor. "Pomona. Lovely to see you. Filius, you as well. Minerva, Hermione, congratulations to you both on your wedding," he greeted, twinkle in his painted eye. "Hermione, I wish you the best of luck managing her temper."

"Albus!" the Scottish witch reprimanded. "Must you?"

"Well, are you suddenly even tempered one hundred percent of the time, even in the middle of an argument?" he inquired.

She sulked. "Probably not."

"Then I must," he concluded. "I'm here if you need me, Hermione."

"I'll keep that in mind, Albus."

"You know what?" Minerva suddenly decided. "Filius, Pomona. You two can handle telling the rest of the staff. Hermione, let's go deal with your parents and get on with our honeymoon!"

Hermione seemed to decide there was no point in arguing. "Yes, dear," she replied. "See you two later!"

* * *

**Pretty much every HGMM out there has Minerva as leader in the relationship, and consequentially it's a given that when there's a wedding, Hermione takes the name McGonagall. While I by no means want to take away from the leader that Minerva is, and the strong woman that she is, I also thought it would be interesting to explore the idea of her accepting Hermione as less of a "wifey" than typically portrayed, and more in the husband role. Granted, that does not mean I'm about to turn Minerva into a "wifey" either. That's just not happening. But I am going to explore a dynamic in which there's a bit more equality. While Minerva brings the advantage of her age and experience, and at least one side of her family being of wizarding stock, allowing Hermione to claim the "Headship" in their marriage gives them equal footing rather than putting one more element of power in Minerva's hand. Anyway, I realize I didn't need to explain myself, but I wanted you guys to see my reasoning for making Minerva a Granger as apposed to Hermione a McGonagall. I hope this sits well with you guys, and I also hope you were all satisfied with the back story for Hermione and Severus. I am physically unable to make Severus a bad guy. I just can't do it. In most of my stories, he ends up being a support for Hermione in some way or another. PLEASE REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is the smut you've been waiting for... *grin* Fair warning, NSFW. **

* * *

Hermione hadn't actually been by to see her parents in over six months. She'd spoken to her mother on the telephone about three weeks ago. In fact, it had been the day she'd run into Minerva. She'd called her mum and told her about it, excited by the possibilities. She'd not been in contact since, however. Hiding the truth about Albus from her parents hadn't been possible, emotionally speaking. They knew everything. She could have used magic to keep it from them just as easily as she had kept it from everyone else, but after what she'd done to them during the war, she couldn't bring herself to deceive them with magic again.

Whenever she had Albus, she brought him to visit them. He saw them as an extra set of grandparents - his Nana and Bacca - and they adored him. When she'd been pregnant, Hermione's mum had tried to persuade her to keep the baby herself, but at the end of the day Hermione could not imagine herself staying away from the Wizarding world, and her son was bound to have the Potter curse; that wild, dark hair. He had, of course, though his was more curly than Harry's had been thanks to her influence. Albus had also gotten his father's green eyes, and that really was the nail in the coffin. An idiot could see he was the son of Harry Potter. There were bits of her in there too: her freckles, her nose, her lips, and the shape of her face. Time would tell whose build he favored, although Hermione secretly hoped he'd be taller than his father. She hoped he'd be tall like Severus. Biologically related or not, Hermione couldn't help but hope that her son showed some qualities in common with the man who would have been his surrogate uncle, had he lived.

"The last time I saw your parents, you were eleven years old," Minerva muttered awkwardly. "I'm a bit glad they're muggles. At least they can't hex me as they accuse me of being a pedophile."

"They won't accuse you of being a pedophile," Hermione assured. "They are well aware of how I feel about you, and they knew I had asked you out on a date three weeks ago."

"Really?" Minerva asked skeptically. "I'm surprised you'd be that open with them."

"After the war, and after I returned their memories," she began.

"Ah," the older witch winced. "I'd forgotten about that."

"They were less than pleased with me," Hermione continued, "and in order to rebuild a relationship with them, we established a policy of complete honesty. I don't hide anything from them anymore. They know about what happened with Harry, they know about Albus. They know about my history with you, and about every single one night stand that has come between walking away from you and getting back to here."

Minerva wrinkled her nose. "One night stands, huh?"

Hermione nodded. "A few, and a couple of relationships. Minerva, we didn't speak for ten years, and I was in my twenties. You didn't honestly expect that I was celibate during that period, did you?"

The older woman shook her head. "Not that I'd really given it much thought, but no, I don't suppose I could have expected that," she reasoned. "Nor was I celibate the last decade. Granted, I doubt I was as… liberal about it as you were. We'll talk about that another time, however. Back to your parents."

By then, the two were walking toward Hermione's childhood home. "I think they'll be surprised that we've off and eloped, for all intents and purposes, but they'll adapt," the younger witch explained. "The thing that's going to stick in their craw is going to be the reason behind the marriage. Honesty is their number one priority. They hardly approve of the fact that Harry and I are lying about the fact that Albus is my son. While you'll get points for putting me in a position to claim my son and be free of _that_ lie, they won't like the fact that in order to do that, we have to tell yet another lie."

"I can understand that," Minerva replied, "although this is the lesser of two evils."

"Good luck getting my mum to understand that," the younger woman said with a sigh. "I bet you ten galleons that if you try that argument on her, the first thing out of her mouth will be '_the lesser of two evils is still evil,'_ followed promptly by some self-righteous rant. If we're very lucky, my dad will rein her in before she goes too far. She's a dear, and I love her, but she's ever so fond of her soap box."

Hermione absolutely did not vocalize the thought that, as an adult, she understood that the apple had not fallen far from the tree. She knew quite well that she could get on her high horse just as easily as her mum could. She'd come by the trait honestly, and she pitied her poor father at family dinners. No wonder he so often excused himself to go make a cuppa.

"Well, thank you for the warning," Minerva replied. "I suppose if I survived two wars, I can survive meeting the parents."

With a nod, Hermione used her key to unlock her parents' front door, and they walked in without knocking. "Mum! Dad? Are you home?"

"Hermione?" her mum called from the den. "We're in here having a spot of tea. Come on in!"

She nodded for Minerva to follow and a moment later the two were walking into a lovely room with a fireplace, some armchairs and a loveseat, numerous bookshelves and end tables, and with artwork and books placed about that spoke of a family that was well read, well traveled, and decidedly cultured. Hermione could tell by the smile on Minerva's face that her wife approved of this room heartily.

"Oh," Jean Granger said in surprise. "Professor McGonagall, isn't it?"

Hermione looked at her parents, both of them looking at her expectantly, clearly waiting for an answer, and better yet an explanation as to what her former professor was doing in their home. "Yes, and no, Mum," Hermione began.

Her father sat up in his chair, leaning forward a bit as he took a sip out of his tumbler of what was probably whiskey. "This _is_ your former Professor, kiddo," her dad observed, eyeing the pair. She watched as his eyes glanced down at their hands, and saw his nod of understanding when he caught a glint of silver on her left hand. "It's just not McGonagall anymore, is it?"

Minerva decided to speak for herself at this point. "As of a few hours ago, no. Which is why we're here."

"Wait a moment," Jean said, shaking her head. "Are you saying…"

"We got married, Mum," Hermione spelled out. "She's Minerva Granger now. So yes, she's my former Professor who you've known for ages I'm crazy about, but no, not McGonagall any longer."

Neither of her parents said anything for a moment, although they did look at one another, seeming to communicate without words. If she wasn't so sure they were Muggles, she might have wondered if they were using magic, but she supposed the love that had carried them through over forty years of marriage was a magic in its own right. "She knows about Albus, I trust," Jean finally asked her daughter.

Hermione nodded. "That's actually part of the reason we got married. I'm going to claim my son."

John grinned, making it clear where Hermione's smile had come from. "It's 'bout damn time! Welcome to the family, Minerva!" he said, getting up and clapping her on the shoulder.

* * *

After finishing at Hermione's parents' house, Minerva and Hermione were finally free to take the Portkey to Dublin where they planned to spend their honeymoon. Neither were particularly interested in seeing sights so much as they were interested in a secluded place with a nice view, where nobody knew them should they wish to take a walk. Mostly, they expected to spend the next week cooped up in the hotel room getting to know one another. Sex was certainly on the agenda, and probably first thing on the agenda for that matter, but in reality in the midst of all the planning in the last three weeks since Hermione had come back into her life, they hadn't really had much time to reacquaint themselves.

There were still ten years of history to catch up on, and they were _married_. There was no backing out, even if they found out something horrid about one another. As far as Minerva was concerned, if she hadn't run for the hills after learning about the son, named for her dead husband and the man who'd killed him, Hermione had with Harry bloody Potter, then there was nothing Hermione could do to push her away. She wouldn't begrudge Hermione her sexual history anymore than she expected Hermione would begrudge Minerva hers. It was hard to expect anything too drastic from Hermione when, at the end of the day, Minerva knew Hermione's _character_. She had known Hermione since she'd been a little girl, and she knew what sort of person she was. The rest of everything was just details.

The Portkey deposited them in the middle of a large suite. Their suitcases tumbled out of their grasp and onto the plush carpet around them, stopping when they hit walls or pieces of furniture in their paths. One bag even rolled into a door and pushed it open, identifying the washroom which Minerva could tell from where she stood featured a fairly large tub. It was likely expandable, too, given that this was a wizarding establishment.

A House Elf popped into their room seconds later, and with a snap of his fingers, their suitcases were unpacked into dressers and closets, or onto various surfaces wherever appropriate. "I's being Bobby. If you be needing anything, you's be calling for me. This suite's wards are set to open only to your magical signatures and my own unless you's be ordering me to add others. This is how it is until you leave the Rhode. I knows exactly what sorts of do not disturbs yous be up to so Bobby doesn't come unless Bobby is called. Understood?"

Minerva blushed furiously at the Elf's blatant accusation. "Understood. Thank you. That will be all for the moment."

"Did he just suggest…" Hermione began.

"Oh yes he did," she agreed. "Granted, this is a honeymoon suite so he likely has to deal with over-zealous lovers often enough."

"Is that what we're going to be?" Hermione asked, walking toward her like a cat going after prey. "Over… zealous… lovers?"

Minerva shivered as the younger witch's fingertips ghosted her neck as she helped to remove her companion's coat. "I wouldn't really know," she answered, watching as Hermione carefully hung both of their coats on a nearby rack. "We haven't managed to make it that far."

Hermione met her gaze steadily as she walked back over to Minerva, and placed a soft kiss to her lips as she placed her hands on the older witch's hips. "We keep getting interrupted," she excused, kissing Minerva again, this time harder, and forcing Minerva to take a step back and consequently be backed into a wall. "I do fear I'm rushing you, though. Just because we've married doesn't mean we have to…"

She began to back away.

Minerva kissed Hermione back with vigor, pulling her close and gasping as Hermione's body pressed her firmly against the wall again. "Let me have my wedding night," the older witch whispered, teeth nipping at Hermione's earlobe.

"Oh, shite…" Hermione breathed, her body going almost completely slack for a moment before tensing up again and grabbing Minerva's face.

Frantic kisses left Minerva half dazed, but somehow Hermione had managed to direct them across the room to the large canopy bed, and as soon as the back of her legs hit the edge the younger woman had her on her back and had - _somehow_ \- pulled Minerva's shirt up in such a way that it now bound her hands together above her head. Hermione had managed to kick off her shoes, socks, and slacks somewhere along the way and so now she was looking at a single long leg stretched out toward the headboard, leaving her heel comfortably in Minerva's bound hands. This left Hermione's hands and lips quite free to do other things, and Minerva unable to move.

Well fuck. Albus had never done anything like this.

Hermione was flexible as hell. Leg staying in position all the time, she was able to twist and bend in a way that let her remove Minerva's bra, kiss her lips, neck, and then tits each in turn before she continued downward. The older woman was breathing heavily now, coherent thought long since gone. "Gods, Hermione…" she murmured as the younger woman found a _spot_ just above her left hip bone.

"Well, well…" she heard the younger witch say. "What have we here?"

Seconds later, Minerva gasped as Hermione accurately guessed that she was equally sensitive just above her _right_ hip bone, and then outright moaned when Hermione pressed gently on the left as she kissed the right. _Oh yes, that was nice…_

Hermione's own button down shirt had started coming undone by this point by simple movement, and as the younger witch shifted Minerva got a good view of the breasts underneath. "I want to see you," she admitted, "I want to touch you."

The younger woman nodded, and moved her foot, allowing Minerva to easily untangle her hands from her own shirt, and then pull Hermione toward her. She kissed her young wife deeply as she worked the buttons undone blind, not needing to see until the article obstructing the view was being pushed out of the way by her hands a minute later, falling to the floor to be picked up later. "Min…" Hermione whispered as the older woman undid her bra. "I can't believe you're finally mine."

Minerva toppled onto Hermione, lips locking again, a deep need driving them as flesh met flesh. Her hips easily moved to allow the younger woman access to unbutton her jeans, and she groaned when, as soon as Hermione had peeled them down as far as her hips, she felt fingernails sinking into her skin in that pain-is-pleasure sort of way.

She rolled, praying to Merlin that Hermione would take the cue to remove her bloody jeans properly. She wanted to wrap her legs around that little…

Hermione's fingers curled around the waistband of both her jeans and her knickers. "Yes?" she asked, meeting Minerva's gaze.

Minerva didn't hesitate for a second. "Fuck, yes."

The younger woman grinned, and pulled away the rest of Minerva's clothing in one fell swoop, throwing them off the bed. Hermione moved to settle between Minerva's legs and come up for another kiss, but Minerva sat up and met her. The younger woman ended up on her knees, Minerva's lips ended up on Hermione's stomach, and her fingers quickly pushed Hermione's knickers - the only remaining piece of clothing between them - off her hips and down her legs.

"Oh, Minerva…" Hermione muttered as kisses trailed over her stomach and breasts.

Eventually, lips found lips again, and Hermione's original intention of putting herself between Minerva's legs became a reality. After a few more minutes of just becoming familiar with each other's naked forms, Hermione swung her right leg over Minerva's thigh, effectively providing a source of friction for them both.

"So that's how it works," the older woman concluded, hips beginning to rock.

Hermione chuckled. "One way," she teased. "One way of many."

Conversation didn't continue as a rhythm was found and both women began to feel a growing ache. "Oh, gods…" Minerva moaned. It had been a _long_ time since she'd…

"That's it, love…" Hermione gasped, "Almost…"

The thrusts began to move faster, and harder, but as if the two of them had been made for each other, they kept pace like they were well practiced at this. Minerva was no prude, and had been with a number of men in her time, and at this particular moment she wondered why the hell she'd never tried it with a woman before. This was incredible.

She could feel the orgasm building. Minerva could feel it in her belly, and for a moment she thought about letting it go there, but something made her hold on a few seconds longer. "Yes, 'Mione… more…" she begged. _Take me somewhere I've never been_, she thought. The orgasm kept building, into her chest, and into her fucking throat. She was on the verge of tears and then it happened; climax.

Minerva had had orgasms. This, however, was a climax. This was as high as it went. There was no sound, no smells, and not a single fucking thought. There was nothing but the sensation of sensation, quite literally from her fingers to her toes.

"Merlin…" she heard Hermione mutter, rolling off of her. "Fuck, Minerva. That was amazing."

Her head lolled to the side. She was pretty sure that was the extent of her muscle control at the moment. "Hummm?" she asked.

Hermione grinned at her. "Feeling pretty good?"

"Hmmmm," she agreed.

A rich laugh sounded. "You're adorable."

"Hmmmm!" she growled, displeased at the notion. Just because she couldn't form words at the moment did not mean she was adorable. It just meant that she lacked muscle control. With a little pout, she rolled to her side, and curled into the crook of Hermione's arm. The younger woman pulled a sheet up over their naked bodies and adjusted a few pillows behind them, before wandlessly turning off the lights in their room.

Yes, Minerva agreed. Nap time.

* * *

By the end of the honeymoon, Hermione couldn't tell who was more whipped; her or Minerva. They'd had all but non stop sex since the evening they'd arrived - _good bloody sex _\- and when they hadn't been shagging they'd been talking. They had more or less caught up on the missing ten years, although Merlin knew there would be things that would come up here and there. There was just no way they could cover a decade worth of information in a single week. In any case, they were each so inclined to accommodating, that it was anyone's guess as to who was more inclined to bend to the other's will, although to date, there had been very little that they hadn't simply agreed on. That, in fact, had been the trap in the first place, Hermione mused. She and Minerva had always tended to agree on things. If one wanted to know what Minerva would advise, one could simply ask Hermione, and vice versa. Almost every time, the advice would be the same.

"Are you ready?" Minerva asked.

"I suppose," Hermione replied. "I'm ready to get back to Albus, and ready to actually _live_ with my son, even if it is only part time. I'm not particularly ready to deal with the public's response to him being technically Harry's son as well, even if he's legally mine and yours. I'm also not looking forward to Molly Weasley."

Minerva chuckled. "You're effectively taking away her grandchild. No, I don't expect that will go over well."

"I'm happy to continue allowing her and Arthur to be a part of Albus' life," Hermione replied. "In fact, I was thinking that, to help soften the blow in all this, we do with Harry and Ginny what Harry did for me - we make them Albus' godparents. If something happens to us, they get Albus. This way, Molly and Arthur still maintain a grandparent status, via being parents of the godparent. It also keeps Harry in a legally strong position."

"Good idea," Minerva agreed. "Honestly, we should have considered that sooner. I wouldn't be surprised if they've also considered that notion, and plan to bring it up this evening. Speaking of, we need to go."

The Portkey activated a few moments later, depositing them in the Ministry Atrium. From there, they Flooed to Hogwarts, dropped off their luggage, and then Flooed directly over to the Potters'. It was summer break, so Teddy was home, and Hermione was surprised to see a young Slytherin that she didn't normally see hanging around with Teddy.

"Mister Spinner?" Minerva identified the boy. "What are you doing here? Surely you don't have permission from Wool's?"

"He has permission, Minerva," Harry stepped in. "By the authority of the Auror office. Martin, why don't you give Hermione that letter?"

The boy eyed Hermione, who Harry identified by pointing, warily, but did as he was told. "Here," he said. "Showed up at the orphanage day after you and the Headmistress got hitched on account of you two leaving the country."

Hermione took the folded bit of parchment, startled by a familiar looking pair of eyes. _It couldn't be,_ she thought. _Could it?_

_12 March 1998_

_Dear Hermione,_

_If you're reading this, then two things have happened. Firstly, I'm dead. I am almost certain I won't survive the war, as much as I wish I could. As they say, wishes don't grow on trees. Anyway, a year ago, I had an unplanned encounter with a witch with whom I was friendly. I refuse to call it a mistake, nor will I call the result of that night a mistake. Effective today, I have a son. His mother did not survive the birthing. Given the nightmare of what is to come, I know I cannot hope to raise him, as much as I wish that I could. As you are currently on the run with Potter, I can't hand him off to you, either. I know you'd raise him as your own without question, which in fact is part of the reason that I've opted to put him in the Orphanage for the time being. _

_If, by some chance, we fail and Voldemort prevails, the Orphanage where he himself grew up will be the last place he'd look for his enemy's child. My son will be safe there, for a time at least. Albus donated a good deal of money to Wool's over the years. It's not what it used to be. It's not half bad, so far as Orphanages go. He'll be alright there. I know you'd raise him, Hermione, but I don't want you to do it alone. I want him to have more than a single, struggling parent, and I want more for you than to be that. _

_As such, if you are reading this, then I was right (told you so) and you and Minerva have gotten married. In that circumstance, I'd certainly support the notion of you removing my son from Wool's and taking custody of him. He's yours to raise. I hope that you'll tell him about me, when he's ready to hear about it. There are letters for him when he reaches his majority regarding his mother, but those will come to him when it's time. If you and Minerva have taken your sweet time in getting hitched, and he's already at Hogwarts, then he's there under the name of Martin Spinner. I directed the Orphanage to enroll him at Hogwarts under a false name to protect him, as I couldn't know what the political situation would be. Rest assured, I did not actually give the boy such a ridiculous name. At Wool's, he's known as Snape, and once he's in your custody he's certainly free to go about using his proper name if he so chooses._

_I'm dreadful at feelings, dreadful at goodbyes, but you bloody well know what I mean when I say -_

_Yours Always,_

_Severus Snape_

Hermione's eyes snapped back up, and she looked at the boy in front of her. Yes, she'd been right. Those _were_ Severus' eyes. The boy stared back at her with trepidation, and with hope. He knew what the letter said, and he knew that she was his one chance at a life away from the Orphanage. Severus had been right in his assumption that the moment she knew about Martin, there'd be no turning back for her. She only hoped that Minerva would back her on this decision. She'd been asking a lot when she'd asked Minerva to be a parent to Albus. Now to take on a second son? Was it too much?

Kneeling, she tenderly touched the dark haired boy's cheek, urging him to make eye contact. "You have your father's eyes," she whispered.

* * *

**Lemon with a side of Plot Twist Anyone? PLEASE REVIEW! **


	6. Chapter 6

**For the record, the direction this story is going has a lot to do with the reviews I've been getting. I have very little planned out for this story. I have a vague idea of where I want it to end up, but the how it gets there is pretty open, as is the how long it takes to get there and who gets maimed along the way. In short, you guys are impacting the way this develops. Cheers! **

* * *

Minerva was out of her element. Of course she was used to being around children, but she was not used to children being around _her_. By that, she meant that she was not used to children seeing her inside of her quarters, with her hair down. They, or in this case young Mister _Snape_, didn't seem particularly used to it either, as his mouth fell open when she unpinned her hair and long locks of dark, although greying hair cascaded down her back. She sighed. "It's only hair, Martin. If you're going to live with Hermione and me, you'll have to get used to seeing me in a far more casual way. I'm not going to walk about in stiff robes with my hair pinned up all the time just for your comfort. Outside of school, I've even been known to wear jeans and trainers on occasion."

"Have you really?" he asked, finally finding his tongue. "I can't imagine."

"You won't have to imagine, long," she replied. "Tomorrow, we're going to the Burrow - that's the home of Arthur and Molly Weasley, mind - and I was planning on wearing just that."

"Wicked," Martin marveled. "None of my mates will believe me when I tell them."

"Mister Lupin may back you up, and you'd be wise to continue to cultivate a friendship with him, even if he's not in your House," Minerva advised. "Given that Hermione and I mean to adopt you, Teddy is in effect your brother's brother. He's family."

Hermione chose that moment to re-enter the room, having finally gotten Albus off to sleep. It was the first time she'd had him overnight, though she and Harry had agreed that since they'd be seeing Harry and Ginny first thing tomorrow, having the first sleepover on a night that he'd see his usual caregivers soon after waking would be smart. "How are you two getting along?"

"Fine, same as usual," Martin informed her. "I've never had a problem with the Headmistress. It's you I don't know from Adam, and now I find out what? You were my father's sister or some rot?"

He was obviously holding some resentment toward Hermione, and in true Snape fashion, he seemed intent on holding that grudge if his glare was anything to go on. The younger witch seemed taken aback by his hostility, although far from dissuaded. It wasn't as though she hadn't already broken through the walls of one Snape. She could do it again. Of that, Minerva had no doubt.

"Your father and I saw one another as brother and sister. We were not biologically related, however," she told Martin. "As he said in the letter, had I known about you sooner, I'd have taken you. Be angry at him for how long you were at Wool's all you like. I sure as hell am. I'd have never seen you as a burden, Martin. Not then, and I certainly don't see you that way now."

The anger in the boy's eyes began to fade, as he began to rightly place the blame on his father for where he'd spent the first thirteen years of his life.

"Nor do I," Minerva added, seeing doubt in the boy's expression. He'd certainly had plenty of reason to doubt his place in this world, and it was up to them to assure him. "You _are_ welcome here. Obviously it's going to take some adjustment for the two of us because we're accustomed to a teacher and student dynamic, but I'm willing to work at it if you are."

"What am I to call you?" he asked shyly, his temper simmering into nothingness. "If you're to be my parents? I don't reckon I can rightly call you both _mum_ without it getting confusing."

Minerva's heart lurched at the notion that the boy even _wanted_ to give them parental honorifics. She'd expected him to call them by name to acknowledge a less formal relationship, but this? This was something else. This was a left field curveball. Granted, in the month since Hermione had come back into her life, pretty much everything had been a damn curveball. Why the hell was she still surprised?

"I'd say one stuffy title is enough for her," Hermione mused. "She's got Headmistress, so she can be _mum_. I'll be a more formal, but still parental, _mother_, if that suits you Martin."

"The usage of _mother_ is fairly common among Slytherins," the boy remarked. "I suppose my father would have approved, even if it might smart at your Gryffindor sensibilities."

"Ha!" Minerva laughed. "Your _mother_ could easily have sorted into Slytherin, had she not been Muggleborn. Don't let the red and gold fool you. She and Severus were drawn to each other for a reason."

Martin grinned. "Do you think Albus has a chance of being sorted into Slytherin, since he's your son but half-blood?" he asked, addressing Hermione.

She shrugged. "Possible. Harry would probably keel over if he were, though. A Potter in Slytherin?"

"I'd look out for him, but I will have already graduated by the time he's old enough to start school," Martin realized, frowning. "Bugger. Can I train for a Mastery while still a student at Hogwarts?"

Minerva looked at Hermione, and Hermione looked at Minerva. They burst out laughing at the same time. Minerva went to a nook in the corner and pulled out her Pensieve. "Here," she said. "I think this will help."

"Good idea," Hermione agreed. "You should come," she added.

Minerva hadn't expected the invitation. These were Hermione's memories of Severus. This was about sharing _him_ with his son. "Are you sure?"

"You knew him longer than I did," Hermione pointed out. "You can give Martin more of a look at Severus than I ever could."

"Ah," she said, understanding. "Chronologically, then? Once we get to the point where we both knew him we'll go back and forth."

"What's going on?" Martin asked, completely confused.

"This is a Pensieve," Minerva explained. "It allows a witch or wizard to take a memory of theirs, and make it viewable to others. We're going to show you your father's life."

"You asked if you could train for a Mastery while at Hogwarts, Martin? That's how I got to know your dad," Hermione explained. "I was a third year, and he saw my talent for Potions, and decided to take me under his wing as an Apprentice, secretly. It's not something usually done, and more often it's done after fifth year when OWLs are taken, but yes, a Mastery can be earned while still at Hogwarts. I had my Potions Mastery by the middle of my sixth year."

"Neat!" Martin interjected.

"Before we go back to the beginning of his life," Hermione continued, putting her wand to her temple, "I want you to see your father for the man he became. I don't want your opinion of him to be based on the prat he used to be, and yes, he was a bit of a prat when he was young. He made some stupid choices, and paid for them dearly. That didn't make him a bad man, though. It made him human, Martin. You need to understand that."

The boy nodded, with as much understanding as a thirteen year old could have. A few seconds later, the three of them dove into the first memory.

_A younger Hermione walked carefully up to a tall man with dark hair, standing on the balcony of the clocktower as the sun was setting over the Hogwarts grounds. It seemed to be spring by the weather, but Minerva couldn't tell for sure what time frame they were in._

"_Severus?" the younger Hermione called out._

_He turned, and offered a half smile. Minerva would never call Severus Snape conventionally handsome, but with the backing of the sunset and an unusually peaceful expression on his face, he looked beautiful. _

"_Is that my father?" Martin asked, wide-eyed._

"_Yes," the older Hermione whispered, even if she knew her younger self and Severus couldn't hear them. "It's May of '97, here. Neither of us knows it, but it's a year to the day from now when he dies."_

_Minerva gulped. That meant it was less than two months before he'd kill her husband. Less than sixty days before she'd lose Albus. Today, she could see him as a beautiful man, but before another quarter year passed, she'd think of him as a monster. The contrast was overwhelming. _

"_You were right, Mother," Martin said. "I do have his eyes."_

"_What are you doing here?" Severus asked, tiredly. "You know you're not to call me that outside of my office. It's too risky."_

_She shrugged. "At this point I'm of age, Severus. Let them think we're shagging for all I care. I saw you coming out of Dumbledore's office and you looked white as a bloody ghost. Considering how rarely you see sunlight, that's saying something. What's wrong?"_

"_Order matters, Hermione," he said. "You know I can't discuss it."_

_She nodded in understanding, and wrapped her arms around his waist in support. "You're a loyal git." _

"_Are you hugging me?" Severus asked._

_Older Hermione chuckled. "It was the first time I had. There had been a hand on his shoulder in support, here and there, but I'd never outright hugged him before tonight. I rather thought he was going to have a stroke."_

"_My father was not a hugger?" Martin asked._

"_Your father hadn't known much affection in his life," Minerva explained._

"_Yes I am," younger Hermione informed her mentor, tightening her grip. "It's good form to hug me back, now. I promise, I won't tell a soul."_

_After a few seconds of deliberation, Severus Snape finally gave in and hugged the little brunette back, letting his chin rest on her head. "You bloody well better not. My reputation would be fucked."_

_The girl in his arms giggled. "But you feel a little bit better, right?"_

"_I always do when you're near," he admitted._

The three came out of the Pensieve a moment later, and Hermione and Minerva both turned to Martin. The boy looked solemn, contemplating what he'd seen. "My dad really loved you," he finally said, "but you never were… you know…" his face screwed up at the thought of sexual relations involving any parental figure.

"No," Hermione assured him. "Your dad and I were like brother and sister. That was very clear in our minds and in our hearts. The notion of any other sort of relationship between us seemed ludicrous. I showed you that memory, Martin, specifically because it showed that while very reserved in his affections, Severus was capable of loving deeply. Biologically, we were not related, and yet we formed a familial bond that has lasted beyond the grave. I want you to consider that if he could love that deeply toward someone he didn't share blood with, how deeply he might have loved his son."

It was a lightbulb moment for Martin, as he suddenly comprehended why Hermione had chosen to show him that memory. Hell, for that matter, it was a lightbulb moment for Minerva. She'd never seen that side of Severus, and she'd known him most of his life! Who would have thought that a little Gryffindor Muggleborn would be the one to get under his skin? Lily Evans had tried, back in the day, but when push came to shove, Severus had still chosen power over love at that point. His relationship with Hermione had once more put him in a position to make that choice. He could have turned Hermione over to Voldemort and secured a position of utmost power in the Dark Lord's ranks. He could have done that, and he might have lived if he had. Minerva didn't think, however, it had even crossed his mind. Betraying Hermione - his _sister_ \- had never been an option. Harry, maybe. There was certainly enough animosity there. Even with Albus and herself, there was some measure of bad history that could have led to a betrayal. But Severus would never have turned on Hermione.

"If he'd lived, do you think he'd have come back for me?" Martin asked. "I mean, I know the letter said he was pretty sure he wouldn't, but if he _had _lived… would he have come back to Wool's to fetch me?"

Hermione nodded vigorously. "Absolutely. As soon as it had been safe, he'd have come for you without doubt. Likely, I'd have been with him. In a perfect world, you'd have been raised by a doting father and a crazy aunt who was so far up her brother's arse that she basically chased away any potential suitors her brother had."

"Language, Hermione," Minerva chastised lightly.

"I hear far worse in the Slytherin dorm, Mum," Martin said pointedly, rolling his eyes. "Anyway. Show me more?"

Minerva took her cue, and placed a memory of her own into the bowl. It was one of the precious few that did not involve poor Severus being harassed by the Marauders. Given that Martin was going to have to spend a good deal of time around Teddy Lupin and a number of Potters, she really hated to give him a bad view on their forebearers right from the off. She hoped Hermione had considered the same.

_A younger version of herself was walking through the library, heels clicking, when suddenly she heard a THUMP! in the distance and a few seconds later, another one. By the time she'd made it a few steps toward the sound, she heard the sound again, followed by an aggravated boy's voice. "Bugger!"_

_The younger Minerva, along with those in her company, rounded the corner just in time to hear the sound once again, this time in sight of its source. A boy, about Martin's age, was jumping, attempting to reach a book on a shelf which was just a little too high for him to get at. Normally, there were ladders along the shelves for that reason, but the one which was supposed to be along this row of shelves appeared to be missing. "Mr. Snape?" her younger self inquired. "Do you require assistance?" _

"_I require a bloody ladder," he all but shouted, eyes still focused on the shelf._

_She cleared her throat, and he finally looked at her, eyes widening when he realized exactly at whom he had just snapped. "You were saying?" she asked._

"_I'd be dead if I talked to you like that," Martin whispered._

"_You'd best remember that," she replied with a soft smile._

_The thirteen-year-old version of his father gulped. "Pardon me, Professor McGonagall. That was out of line. You didn't deserve to be the recipient of my frustration. It's not your fault that the ladder is missing from this section, nor that I'm not yet tall enough to reach the book I need without it."_

"_Was Severus always so well spoken?" Hermione asked. "I mean, obviously he was as an adult, but I didn't realize he'd swallowed _'Etiquette for Dummies' _in utero."_

"_Severus' mother came from an old Pureblood line," Minerva explained. "The Prince family. His father, however, was an uneducated, drunken muggle. Severus tried very hard to be everything that his father was not, which meant emulating patterns of behavior that would be expected of a proper young Pureblood. Being well spoken is one of many of those adopted behaviors."_

"_My father came from a Pureblood line?" Martin asked. "I didn't know that!"_

_Oh, the things that were important to young Slytherins, Minerva thought. "I'll tell you more about the Princes later," she promised. "Pay attention."_

_Her younger self accepted Severus' apology with a nod, and then took a ratty looking book off the shelf titled _'Quidditch Through the Ages', _and placed it on the floor. She then tapped it with her wand, and it transfigured into a sturdy looking step stool that was certainly high enough to help Severus reach every shelf. "Do not tell Madam Pince," her younger self requested. "When you're finished, point your wand at it and say _finite _and the stool will resume its natural state."_

_Severus looked at her younger self in awe, and it was the first time she could recall ever seeing the boy smile. Smiles were a rare thing indeed for Severus Snape, and if he gifted you with one, it was a treasure. "Thank you, Professor," he finally said. _

"_Why didn't you just get the book he'd get trying to get at that moment?" Martin asked._

"_He'd only have needed another a few minutes later," she explained, "and have been back at square one. He surely didn't want me hanging about fetching him books when he needed them, so I offered him the next best thing; a means to get them himself. The fact that I used a book about Quidditch to make the step stool was part of what he found amusing, I think, as his school rival was a bit of Quidditch nut."_

"_Who was his rival?" Martin inquired._

"_That's a story for another time," Hermione said firmly. _

"_Quite," Minerva agreed. "Onward then."_

_The scene shifted and the three of them found themselves beneath a tree by the black lake, where a teenage Severus was laying on his back next to a girl about his age with long red hair and green eyes. "Lils, do you think maybe one day we might get married?" Severus asked the girl._

_Martin's eyes bulged. "He ain't much older than me! What's he on about? Married? Gross!"_

_Hermione snickered at the rather normal reaction. "Severus wasn't the average boy. Lily was the love of his life, and I think he knew it from the day he met her when he was nine years old."_

"_Is she… is she my biological mother?" Martin asked uneasily. _

"_No," Minerva answered readily. "Of that much, I am certain. Unfortunately, this young lady died a number of years before you were born."_

_Their attention shifted back to Severus and Lily. "What is it with boys thinking I'll marry them?" the ginger haired witch asked. "Potter thinks I'll marry him, and Longbottom tried to ask me out last week as well. I'm not all that!"_

_Severus growled. "Potter is a bloody prat. At least Longbottom is a gentleman. You could do worse than him."_

"_Alice has her eye on him, though," Lily replied. "And I don't fancy Frank."_

"_Who do you fancy?" Severus wanted to know. _

"_Black," Lily deadpanned._

"_What?" the Slytherin boy snapped, sitting up and looking at her alarmed. "Are you serious?"_

"_That _is _his name," she grinned. _

_Hermione outright laughed at that, and Minerva chuckled at the memory, though Martin lacked context of who Sirius Black was and just frowned at the two women._

"_Lily!" Severus pleaded. "What on earth could you see in that prat?"_

"_Honestly?" she said. "He's the one guy I could claim to like that would irritate the piss out of you and Potter both! So if I must like anyone at all, I'm going to say I like him and the lot of you who think you have any control over who I'm going to marry can just shove it!"_

_At that, Lily Evans stood, but not before pausing to kiss Severus on the cheek, and stormed off with a huff. "I'll see you in Potions!" she called behind her._

_Severus remained under the tree, just staring after her with a completely baffled look on his face. "How was she not sorted into Slytherin?" he asked no one in particular._

The three of them came out of the Pensieve of a moment later, and as Martin yawned, Minerva smirked. She'd thought it was probably time to send the boy off to bed. They could show him more memories another time. He didn't have to see his father's whole life in one showing. "Bed time then, son," she said.

"What happened to Lily?" Martin asked. "I know you said she died before I was born, and I don't gather my father ever did marry her, but you showed me her for a reason, anyway."

"You are your father's son," Hermione chuckled. "Observant little man. I presume you showed him Lily because of who she _did_ marry, correct?"

Minerva nodded. "The other lad she mentioned who thought he might marry her one day, did in fact marry her. His name was James Potter. Auror Harry Potter, the fellow who took you from Wool's, and who is Albus' biological father - he is their son."

Martin nodded, making the connection. "Alright, so there's a connection between the girl my father fancied and the Potters. So what?"

"At your age, it may be hard to understand," Hermione said, taking a seat on the sofa and urging him to do the same, "but when I said that Lily was the love of Severus' life, I meant it. You saw earlier how much your dad loved _me_. He loved Lily just as much, only in a different way. Much like my love for your dad hasn't changed despite his death, leading to my caring for you, his love for her didn't go away when she died. If anything it grew stronger because of the manner of her death."

"Because she was murdered," Martin put in, obviously remembering his history.

Hermione nodded. "Harry of course, was the Boy-Who-Lived. Your dad was one of the people in charge of protecting him, and he did so because of the fact that he'd loved Harry's mum."

"I showed you that memory, Martin," Minerva tried to explain, "because I haven't the foggiest who your biological mother even is, only that she's no longer with us. I do know that Severus wouldn't have referred to her as 'someone with whom he was familiar' if it wasn't a woman he cared for. I didn't want you to believe you were the product of a meaningless dalliance. He was not the sort of man to engage in that type of relationship. He never was, not even when he was a boy. He was always too serious for flings."

As Minerva had expected, this was an unspoken fear in the young man's mind. She knew he had to have wondered, especially given Severus' very vague wording regarding his mother, and his unwillingness to identify her until the boy reached majority. Two surprisingly strong arms suddenly latched around her ribs and a sobbing boy's face was pressed into her chest. "Thank you," he mumbled. "For everything."

* * *

**For the record, my dear beta had to stop and catch her breath because she laughed so hard at Hermione's thought that "_she didn't realize [Severus had] swallowed _'Etiquette for Dummies' _in utero." _****This is the joy I get during the beta process. Watching her react gives me an idea of what you folks will find appealing. I hope that line struck some of your funny bones as well. It certainly did mine. See you next chapter, at the Burrow! PLEASE REVIEW! **


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